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Wharton, Edith, 1862-1937

"The Descent of Man and Other Stories"

After that she lay without speaking, her breath coming quick,
and her eyes closed. Suddenly she groped out with her hand, and "_
Emma_," says she, faintly.
"It's Hartley, madam," I said. "Do you want anything?"
She opened her eyes wide and gave me a startled look.
"I was dreaming," she said. "You may go, now, Hartley, and thank you
kindly. I'm quite well again, you see." And she turned her face away
from me.



III


THERE was no more sleep for me that night, and I was thankful when
daylight came.
Soon afterward, Agnes called me to Mrs. Brympton. I was afraid she
was ill again, for she seldom sent for me before nine, but I found
her sitting up in bed, pale and drawn-looking, but quite herself.
"Hartley," says she quickly, "will you put on your things at once
and go down to the village for me? I want this prescription made
up--" here she hesitated a minute and blushed--"and I should like
you to be back again before Mr. Brympton is up."
"Certainly, madam," I said.
"And--stay a moment--" she called me back as if an idea had just
struck her--"while you're waiting for the mixture, you'll have time
to go on to Mr. Ranford's with this note."
It was a two-mile walk to the village, and on my way I had time to
turn things over in my mind. It struck me as peculiar that my
mistress should wish the prescription made up without Mr. Brympton's
knowledge; and, putting this together with the scene of the night
before, and with much else that I had noticed and suspected, I began
to wonder if the poor lady was weary of her life, and had come to
the mad resolve of ending it.


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