"I seem to you and to all the world, what I am not--I tell you I am
dying," said her ladyship in an emphatic tone.

Not a word more passed till they got home. Lady Delacour hurried up
stairs, bidding Belinda follow her to her dressing-room. Marriott was
lighting the six wax candles on the dressing-table.--"As I live, they have
changed dresses after all," said Marriott to herself, as she fixed her
eyes upon Lady Delacour and Miss Portman. "I'll be burnt, if I don't make
my lady remember this."

"Marriott, you need not wait; I'll ring when I want you," said Lady
Delacour; and taking one of the candles from the table, she passed on
hastily with Miss Portman through her dressing-room, through her
bedchamber, and to the door of the mysterious cabinet.

"Marriott, the key of this door," cried she impatiently, after she had in
vain attempted to open it.

"Heavenly graciousness!" cried Marriott; "is my lady out of her senses?"

"The key--the key--quick, the key," repeated Lady Delacour, in a
peremptory tone. She seized it as soon as Marriott drew it from her
pocket, and unlocked the door.

"Had not I best put _the things_ to rights, my lady?" said Marriott,
catching fast hold of the opening door.

"I'll ring when you are wanted, Marriott," said Lady Delacour; and pushing
open the door with violence she rushed forward to the middle of the room,
and turning back, she beckoned to Belinda to follow her--"Come in; what is