it is to be hoped that the reader has not quite forgotten miss pengarvon and her sister, although we have heard nothing of them since that december night, now many years ago, when poor, unforgiven isabel was found lying in the snow in front of the great door of broome.
to the two lonely sisters, wearing out their uneventful lives in the gray old house, the changes wrought by time were few indeed. their dark hair had slowly silvered, their long, thin faces had grown longer and thinner, their tall figures looked a little more gaunt than of yore, but that was all. to them the summer and winter of one year were so like the summer and winter of another, that they almost forgot the passage of time. they worked hard at their embroidery, and sold the proceeds of their labor; they pinched and scraped, and saved in every possible way, growing more miserly with every year. barney dale and his wife were still with them. no thought of leaving broome ever crossed the mind of either. other servants might come and go, but they stayed on, nor ever dreamed of change.
at length there came a morning, early in the autumn of the same year as that in which john brancker was committed to take his trial for the murder of mr. hazeldine, when miss letitia found herself unable to rise from her bed. she had been ailing for some time from the effects of a bad cold, but during the last few days the symptoms had become considerably aggravated, and now she could hold up no longer. miss pengarvon had hinted more than once as to the advisability of calling in doctor bland, but this miss letitia had emphatically begged of her not to do. neither she nor her sister had known a day's illness in their lives; her cold was a simple affair which a few days would put to rights; no doctor had set foot in broome since the late lady pengarvon's death, now nearly forty years ago; and after the lapse of so long a time she was not going to be the first to have one called in. she well remembered that doctor grantley's bill on the occasion of his attendance on lady pengarvon amounted to thirty guineas, yet, after all, his patient died. doctors were an extravagance in which only rich people had a right to indulge. but although miss letitia refused to see a doctor, joanna dale, despite all her remonstrances, insisted on lighting a fire in the sick lady's chamber. miss letitia was terribly afraid her sister would look upon even that small luxury as a piece of wasteful extravagance, and her first words to miss pengarvon, when the latter went upstairs to see her, were, "it is all joanna's doing. she would insist on my having a fire."
miss pengarvon let her cold hand rest for a moment or two on her sister's fevered forehead, and then she said in her usual quiet way, "if joanna had been a woman of sense, she would have gone and fetched doctor bland without saying a word to anyone, as soon as she had lighted your fire."
miss letitia stared at her sister, and then in a little while she said to herself, "barbara must fancy that i'm far worse than i am, or she would not talk about a doctor in that off-hand kind of way."
as it fell out, however, no doctor was sent for till the following morning. miss pengarvon herself made her sister some gruel after a recipe in her mother's writing, which she hunted up out of a cupboard of odds-and-ends. miss letitia thought it exceedingly kind of barbara, and drank a little of the gruel gratefully. it was not nearly so nice as the gruel joanna had made her, but not for worlds would she have said so to anyone.
when at length doctor bland was called in, he seemed to think that his patient was suffering from nothing worse than a feverish cold. he advised her to keep her bed for the present, sent her a composing draught, and promised to call again next day.
"there will be no need for him to call after to-morrow," remarked miss letitia, still thinking of the expense. "indeed, i am far from sure that there was any occasion for him to call at all. poor people always doctor themselves for colds, and why should not i do the same?"
to this miss pengarvon made no reply. there was something in her sister's looks that made her more uneasy than she cared to admit, even to herself. she took her work into the sick woman's room, and sat with her all through the dull october day, and till far into the night. miss letitia was strangely drowsy, and could scarcely keep her eyes open for longer than a few minutes at a time.
"it must be something in this nasty medicine that makes me sleep so," she said once or twice with a touch of irritation. "i am sorry to be such poor company, barbara."
miss barbara smiled a little grimly at this. at the best of times poor letitia's company was never anything more than mildly depressing.
the following morning dr. bland found his patient no better. the feverish symptoms were more pronounced than before. he changed the medicine at once, and promised to call again next day.
"if he were of opinion that there were the slightest danger, he would call again before to-morrow," argued miss pengarvon with herself.
the bedrooms of the sisters adjoined each other, with a door of communication between. this door was always left open at night, so that there was a sense of companionship through the dark hours which was not unpleasant to either sister, although they never admitted it in so many words. miss pengarvon was always a light sleeper, and to-night she got up several times and stalked into her sister's room--a tall, gaunt figure in a long white night-dress and a ruffled nightcap. miss letitia was talking a great deal in her sleep, and it was her half-sister isabel's name which she mentioned oftener than that of anyone else. isabel seemed to be nearly always in some great peril, from which letitia seemed to be vainly trying to rescue her. once or twice when she opened her eyes she did not seem to recognize barbara; and later on, when she woke up and asked for a drink, she fancied that it was her mother she was speaking to, and that she and her sister were on the point of setting out to gather blackberries in the wood. a great dread began to take possession of miss pengarvon's heart.
dr. bland came as usual in the course of the forenoon. miss pengarvon followed him out of the sick woman's room. "my sister is much worse this morning," she said. there was a sort of menace in her voice, and a fierce, angry light in her eyes as she spoke, that half frightened the little doctor. it was as though she implied that it was his fault her sister was no better.
"scarcely worse, i think," responded the doctor in his most soothing tones, "although, perhaps, there is hardly that improvement in her i had hoped to find. but these things take time, my dear madam, time."
"you know in your heart that she won't get better--that she will die," answered miss pengarvon, with a quiver of her thin, colorless lips.
"bless my heart, madam, i know nothing of the kind!" responded the little man, a spot of angry red showing suddenly in each cheek; "on the contrary, i have every reason for thinking that your sister will soon be quite herself again."
"it is very doubtful to me, sir, whether you understand her case. if she is not better by to-morrow, i shall call in some further advice."
"as you please, madam, as you please," responded the doctor, as he took himself off in a huff. "was there ever so much fuss made about an old woman before?" he muttered to himself, shutting the door behind him more noisily than as a medical man he ought to have done.
miss letitia's mind wandered a good deal in the course of the day, but towards evening her senses came back to her, clear and fresh, and the feverish symptoms seemed to be abating. miss pengarvon did not retire to her own room until past midnight, and then she left her sister in what seemed to be a quiet and refreshing sleep. a light was kept burning in each of the rooms, and the door between was left open.
miss pengarvon was thoroughly tired out, and was soon asleep. she awoke with a start and a sudden sensation of fright. the candle was still burning, and the clock on the chimney-piece pointed to half-past two. everything seemed quiet in the next room, and yet, at the very moment of waking, it had seemed to her that she heard a sound as of someone opening a door. still listening, she sat up in bed. a cinder or two dropped from the grate in the next room, and then all was silent again.
all at once the flame of the candle seemed to flicker as though caught by a draught of wind. next moment miss pengarvon was out of bed, and an instant later she was in the next room. the candle there was still alight, but her sister's bed was empty, and the door into the corridor was wide open. what had become of letitia? whither had she gone?
pausing only to push her feet into a pair of slippers, and to fling a shawl over her shoulders, miss pengarvon passed out into the corridor, holding a candle above her head. all was cold, dark, and silent. she stood for a minute or two, listening intently, then she thought she heard a noise as of a door being opened downstairs. taking this sound as a guide, she hurried along the corridor and then down the broad, shallow flight of stairs which led to the ground-floor of the old house. some instinct seemed to direct her steps towards the green parlor. there was no light anywhere save that of the candle she carried. the shadows seemed to vanish before her as she advanced, only to crowd more darkly behind her the moment she had passed. suddenly a plaintive voice was heard speaking in the darkness. "isabel, isabel, speak to me again. i cannot find you."
miss pengarvon stood stock still for a moment or two and shuddered. then, hesitating no longer, she strode swiftly forward until she reached the green parlor. the door was wide open; she had shut and locked it carefully, as she always did, before retiring for the night. she gazed around with anxious eyes, and for the first moment or two, so faint was the light shed by her candle, it seemed to her that the room was empty, but a second glance revealed to her her sister's figure, clad in a dark-grey dressing-gown, crouching on the floor against the old carved bureau that stood in one corner of the room, with her fevered face pressed to its cold, polished panels. miss pengarvon put down her candlestick, walked across the floor, and laid a hand gently on her sister's shoulder.
"letitia, what are you doing here?" she asked.
miss letitia rose to her feet with a sigh, and pushed back her long locks, streaked with grey, which had fallen over her forehead.
"where is isabel? i followed her here, and now i can't find her," she said, gazing questioningly at her sister, with eyes that were full of an eager, burning light--the light of fever.
"this is nonsense, letitia. you have been dreaming. come back to your room at once," answered miss pengarvon, coldly.
"dreaming, barbara! oh, no, it was far too vivid for a dream. i had been fast asleep for i don't know how long, when suddenly i was awakened by hearing my name pronounced quite close to me, as if the speaker were bending over my bed. a second time my name was spoken, and then i knew that it was isabel who was calling me. i sat up and gazed around, but no one was visible. then isabel called me again, and this time the voice seemed to come from outside the door. i got out of bed, put on my dressing-gown, and went out into the corridor. still, no one was there. then the voice spoke again, simply calling my name, nothing more; but this time it sounded further away--away down the corridor, and near the head of the stairs. while i was looking and listening, i seemed to see a white figure, very faint and vaguely defined, standing in the dim starlight, near the staircase window, and beckoning to me to follow it. i followed without hesitation, for i had no fear; and yet that seems very strange. as i advanced the figure vanished, and then, when i reached the head of the stairs, i heard my name spoken again, as if from below. then i descended the stairs and followed the voice till it led me here--here, barbara! do you not understand?"
miss pengarvon's sallow cheeks grew still more sallow. she understood only too well. but before she could say a word, miss letitia went on in a strangely eager way:
"but now that i am here she does not speak. i have called her, but she will not answer; and yet she must be in trouble, for it was enough to make one weep to hear the way she spoke my name. it is strange--very strange! she has brought me all the way here, and now she hides herself from me."
"strange indeed, letitia; but we will talk more fully in the morning," answered miss pengarvon, with an unwonted tremor in her voice. "it is very late now, and very cold; and we had better go back to bed."
"but what if isabel were to call again? what if she were really to want me for something?"
"i will sit up and listen, and if she--if anyone should call you, i shall be there to attend to the summons."
"but you will wake me, will you not, if isabel should ask for me again?"
"i promise you that i will."
"then i will go back to bed; though how you can say it is a cold night, barbara, is more than i can think. i am all in a glow; feel at my hands."
miss pengarvon said no more, but drew one of her sister's hot hands under her arm, and hurried her away.
miss letitia went back to bed as obediently as a little child, and turning her face to the wall, in five minutes was fast asleep. but there was no more sleep that night for miss pengarvon. she made up the fire, wrapped a shawl round her shoulders, and sat there hour after hour, as upright as a mummy--and nearly as motionless--staring into the fire with unwavering eyes, and conjuring up in the glowing embers, who shall say what strange pictures of the past--pictures, some of them, which for years she had done her utmost to forget, but which the torch of memory, kindled by her sister's random words, now lighted up for her again, as vividly as though the events which they depicted were but those of yesterday. how thankfully she watched the breaking of the coming day! then the shadows that haunt our thoughts and weigh upon our spirits during the dread watches of the night take to themselves wings, and vanish as though they had never been, before the first rays of the rising sun.
day had not yet fully broken when miss letitia sat up suddenly in bed. in her eyes there was a light which seemed of another world than this. stretching forth her arms, she said, "oh, barbara. the baby--the baby! so cold! so cold!"
they were her last words. she sighed softly, twice, and sank back on the pillows.
