THE LAST STAGE.


The post-horses--which had been well fed, but accommodated somewhat
poorly in stable and barn--were quite ready to go on next morning; but
Lord Maulevrier was not able to leave his room, where her ladyship
remained in close attendance upon him. The hills and valleys were white
with snow, but there was none falling, and Mr. Evans, the elderly
surgeon from Ambleside, rode over to Great Langdale on his elderly cob
to look at Robert Haswell, and was called in to see Lord Maulevrier. Her
ladyship had spoken lightly of his skill on the previous evening, but
any doctor is better than none, so this feeble little personage was
allowed to feel his lordship's pulse, and look at his lordship's tongue.

His opinion, never too decidedly given, was a little more hazy than
usual on this occasion, perhaps because of a certain awfulness, to
unaccustomed eyes, in Lady Maulevrier's proud bearing. He said that his
lordship was low, very low, and that the pulse was more irregular than
he liked, but he committed himself no further than this, and went away,
promising to send such pills and potions as were appropriate to the
patient's condition.

A boy rode the same pony over to Langdale later in the afternoon with
the promised medicines.

Throughout the short winter day, which seemed terribly long in the
stillness and solitude of Great Langdale, Lady Maulevrier kept watch in
the sick-room, Steadman going in and out in constant attendance upon his
master--save for one half-hour only, which her ladyship passed in the