It was of purpose that he caught
her eye and regarded her with a gravity she could scarcely fail to
comprehend.
Jane awoke from her fitful slumber. She looked with but
half-conscious fearfulness at the figures darkening her view. Sidney
moved so that his face was in the light, and, bending near to her,
asked if she recognised him. A smile--slow-forming, but
unmistakable at last--amply justified what her grandfather had
said. She made an effort to move her hand towards him. Sidney
responded to her wish, and again she smiled, self-forgetfully,
contentedly.
Snowdon turned to Mrs. Peckover, and, after a few words with regard
to the treatment that was being pursued, said that he would now
relieve her; she lingered, but shortly left the room. Sidney,
sitting by the bed, in a few minutes saw that Jane once more slept,
or appeared to do so. He whispered to Snowdon that he was going to
see his friends in the next room, and would look in again before
leaving.
His tap at the door was answered by Amy, who at once looked back and
said:
'Can Mr. Kirkwood come in, mother?'
'Yes; I want to see him,' was the answer.
Mrs. Hewett was lying in bed; she looked, if possible, more
wretchedly ill than four days ago.
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