WYLDER'S HAjYD.
235
She saw he was about to say something, and she leaned
her head near his lips, and she heard him whisper, —
"It won't serve Mark."
"I'm thinking of you, Stanley — I'm thinking of
you."
To which he said either "Yes " or " So." She could
not distinguish.
"I view it now quite differently. You said, you know,
in the park, you would tell Chelford; and I resisted, I
believe; but I don't now. I had rather you did. Yes,
Stanley, I conjure you to tell it all."
He said something. She thought it was " I'll think;"
and then he closed his eyes. It was the only motion she
had observed, his face lay just as it had done on the pillow.
He had not stirred all the time she was there; and now>
that his eyelids closed, it seemed to say, our interview is
over — the curtain has dropped; and so understanding it,
with that one awful look that may be the last, she glided
from the bed-side, told old Dorothy that he seemed dispos-
ed to sleep, and left the room.
In the meanwhile, on his return to the library, Lord
Chelford found his dowager mother in high chat with the
attorney, whom she afterwards pronounced " a very gentle-
manlike man for his line of life."
The conversation, indeed, was chiefly that of Lady
Chelford, the exemplary attorney contributing, for the
most part, a polite acquiescence, and those reflections which
most appositely pointed the moral of her ladyship's tale,
which concerned altogether the vagaries of Mark Wylder
— a subject which piqued her curiosity and irritated her
passions.
It was a great day for Jos Larkin; for by the time
Lord Chelford returned the old lady had asked him to stay
for dinner, which he did, notwithstanding his morning