ught her to send for advice; but
Rashe regarded a murderous allopathist as near akin to an executioner,
and only bewailed the want of her minikin doses.

Giving up the hope of an immediate departure, Lucilla despatched a
messenger to Bray, thence to telegraph for the luggage; and the day was
spent in fears lest their landlord at Dublin might detain their goods as
those of suspicious characters.

Other excitement there was none, not even in quarrelling, for Rashe was
in a sleepy state, only roused by interludes of gloomy tea and greasy
broth; and outside, the clouds had closed down, such clouds as she had
never seen, blotting out lake and mountain with an impervious gray
curtain, seeming to bathe rather than to rain on the place. She longed
to dash out into it, but Ratia's example warned her against drenching her
only garments, though indoors the dryness was only comparative.
Everything she touched, herself included, seemed pervaded by a damp, limp
rawness, that she vainly tried to dispel by ordering a fire. The turf
smouldered, the smoke came into the room, and made their eyes water, and
Rashe insisted that the fire should be put out.

Cilla almost envied her sleep, as she sat disconsolate in the window,
watching the comparative density of the rain, and listening to the
extraordinary howls and shrieks in the town, which kept her constantly
expecting that a murder or a rebellion would come to relieve the monotony
of the day, till she found that nothing ensued, and no one took any
notice.

She tried to sketch from memory, but nothing would hinder that least
pleasant of occupations--thought. Either she imagined every unpleasant
chance of detention, she worried herself about Robert Fulmort, or
marvelled what Mr. Prendergast and the censorious ladies would do with
Edna Murrell. Many a time did she hold her watch to her ear, suspecting
it of having stopped, so slowly did it loiter through the weary hours.
Eleven o'clock when she hoped it was one--half-past two when it felt like
five.

By real five, the mist was thinner, showing first nearer, then remoter
objects; the coarse slates of the roofs opposite emerged polished and
dripping, and the cloud finally took its leave, some heavy flakes, like
cotton wool, hanging on the hill-side, and every rock shining, every leaf
glistening. Verdure and rosy cheeks both resulted from a perpetual
vapour-bath.

Lucilla rejoiced in her liberty, and hurried out of doors, but leanin