slowly, so that the face of it confronted the upturned face of the woman in the chair.
There was a pause. Then, a supernatural movement disturbed the rigid repose of the dead face.
The closed eyelids opened slowly. The eyes revealed themselves, bright with the glassy film of death--and fixed their dreadful look on the woman in the chair.
Agnes saw that look; saw the eyelids of the living woman open slowly like the eyelids of the dead; saw her rise, as if in obedience to some silent command--and saw no more.
Her next conscious impression was of the sunlight pouring in at the window; of the friendly presence of Lady Montbarry at the bedside; and of the children's wondering faces peeping in at the door.
". . . YOU have some influence over Agnes. Try what you can do, Henry, to make her take a sensible view of the matter. There is really nothing to make a fuss about. My wife's maid knocked at her door early in the morning, with the customary cup of tea. Getting no answer, she went round to the dressing-room--found the door on that side unlocked--and discovered Agnes on the bed in a fainting fit. With my wife's help, they brought her to herself again;