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Support the Monkey! Tell All your Friends and Teachers |
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Support the Monkey! Tell All your Friends and Teachers |
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149 heard her murmur, “No, I’ll not die--he’d be glad--he does not love me at all--he would never miss me!” “Did you want anything, ma’am?” I inquired, still preserving my external composure, in spite of her ghastly countenance and strange exaggerated manner. “What is that apathetic being doing?” she demanded, pushing the thick entangled locks from her wasted face. “Has he fallen into a lethargy, or is he dead?” “Neither,” replied I; “if you mean Mr. Linton. He’s tolerably well, I think; though his studies occupy him rather more than they ought: he is continually among his books, since he has no other society.” I should not have spoken so, if I had known her true condition, but I could not get rid of the notion that she acted a part of her disorder. “Among his books!” she cried, confounded. “And I dying! I on the brink of the grave! My God! does he know how I’m altered?” continued she, staring at her reflection in a mirror hanging against the opposite wall. “Is that Catherine Linton? He imagines me in a pet--in play, perhaps. Cannot you inform him that it is frightful earnest? Nelly, if it be not too late, as soon as I learn how he feels, I’ll choose between these two: either to starve at once--that would be no punishment unless he had a heart--or to recover, and leave the country. Are you speaking the truth about him now? Take care. Is he actually so utterly indifferent for my life?” “Why, ma’am,” I answered, “the master has no idea of your being deranged; and of course he does not fear that you will let yourself die of hunger.” “You think not? Cannot you tell him I will?” she returned. |
