Pauncefort left the room accordingly, and straightway proceeded to
Lady Annabel, when she communicated the information that Miss Venetia
was in the house, after all, though she had never seen her return,
and that she was lying down because she had a very bad headache. Lady
Annabel, of course, did not lose a moment in visiting her darling. She
entered the room softly, so softly that she was not heard; Venetia was
lying on her bed, with her back to the door. Lady Annabel stood by her
bedside for some moments unnoticed. At length Venetia heaved a
deep sigh. Her mother then said in a soft voice, 'Are you in pain,
darling?'
'Is that mamma?' said Venetia, turning with quickness.
'You are ill, dear,' said Lady Annabel, taking her hand. 'Your hand is
hot; you are feverish. How long has my Venetia felt ill?'
Venetia could not answer; she did nothing but sigh. Her strange manner
excited her mother's wonder. Lady Annabel sat by the bedside, still
holding her daughter's hand in hers, watching her with a glance of
great anxiety.
'Answer me, my love,' she repeated in a voice of tenderness. 'What do
you feel?'
'My head, my head,' murmured Venetia.
Her mother pressed her own hand to her daughter's brow; it was very hot.
'Does that pain you?' inquired Lady Annabel; but Venetia did not reply;
her look was wild and abstracted.
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