With intense anxiety she watched, and assisted in the
fomentations, longing for Mr. Belamour's return; but time passed on
and still he came not. No words passed, only a few faint sighs, and
one of the hands closed tight on Aurelia's.
CHAPTER XXIII. WRATH AND DESOLATION.
Straight down she ran
. . . . and fatally did vow
To wreake her on the mayden messenger
Whom she had caused be kept as prisonere.
SPENSER.
Hark! there was the trampling of horses and thundering of wheels at
the door! Could the doctor be come already, and in such a fashion?
Jumbo hurried to admit him, and Mrs. Aylward moved to arrange matters,
but the clasp that was on Aurelia's hand would not let her go.
Presently there came, not Dr. Hunter's tread, but a crisp, rustling
sound, and the tap of high heels, and in the doorway stood, tall,
erect, and terrible, Lady Belamour, with a blaze of wrath in her
blue eyes, and concentrated rage in her whole form, while in accents
low, but coming from between her teeth, she demanded, "Miserable boy,
what means this?"
"Oh! madam, take care! he is sadly hurt!" cried Aurelia, with a
gesture as if to screen him.
"I ask what this means?" repeated Lady Belamour, advancing, and
seeming to fill the room with her majestic figure, in full brocaded
dress, with feathers waving in her hair.
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