I stared at my uncle, unable to speak, until I seemed to lose sight of him;
but his voice, like a bell, still yelled in my ears.
'There! young hypocrite and liar! explain that farrago of slander which you
bribed my servant to place in the hands of my kinswoman, Lady Knollys.'
And so on and on it went, I gazing into darkness, until the voice itself
became indistinct, grew into a buzz, and hummed away into silence.
I think I must have had a fit.
When I came to myself I was drenched with water, my hair, face, neck, and
dress. I did not in the least know where I was. I thought my father was
ill, and spoke to him. Uncle Silas was standing near the window, looking
unspeakably grim. Madame was seated beside me, and an open bottle of ether,
one of Uncle Silas's restoratives, on the table before me.
'Who's that--who's ill--is anyone dead?' I cried.
At last I was relieved by long paroxysms of weeping. When I was
sufficiently recovered, I was conveyed into my own room.
CHAPTER LVIII
_LADY KNOLLYS' CARRIAGE_
Next morning--it was Sunday--I lay on my bed in my dressing-gown, dull,
apathetic, with all my limbs sore, and, as I thought, rheumatic,
and feeling so ill that I did not care to speak or lift my head.
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