CHAPTER XIV.

Mrs. Ashleigh received us in the dining-room. Her manner to me, at first,
was a little confused and shy. But my companion soon communicated
something of her own happy ease to her gentler friend. After a short
conversation we all three went to Lilian, who was in a little room on the
ground-floor, fitted up as her study. I was glad to perceive that my
interdict of the deathchamber had been respected.

She reclined on a sofa near the window, which was, however, jealously
closed; the light of the bright May-day obscured by blinds and curtains; a
large fire on the hearth; the air of the room that of a hot-house,--the
ignorant, senseless, exploded system of nursing into consumption those who
are confined on suspicion of it! She did not heed us as we entered
noiselessly; her eyes were drooped languidly on the floor, and with
difficulty I suppressed the exclamation that rose to my lips on seeing
her. She seemed within the last few days so changed, and on the aspect of
the countenance there was so profound a melancholy! But as she slowly
turned at the sound of our footsteps, and her eyes met mine, a quick blush
came into the wan cheek, and she half rose, but sank back as if the effort
exhausted her. There was a struggle for breath, and a low hollow cough.
Was it possible that I had been mistaken, and that in that cough was heard
the warning knell of the most insidious enemy to youthful life?

I sat down by her side; I lured her on to talk of indifferent
subjects,--the weather, the gardens, the bird in the cage, which was
placed on the table near her. Her voice, at first low and feeble, became
gradually stronger, and her face lighted up with a child's innocent,
playful smile. No, I had not been mistaken! That was no lymphatic,