'God help her!' murmured Lucy. 'How she suffers!'
At her desire we sought for water; but when we returned, Bridget
had recovered her wandering senses, and was kneeling with clasped
hands before Lucy, gazing at that sweet sad face as though her
troubled nature drank in health and peace from every moment's
contemplation. A faint tinge on Lucy's pale cheeks showed me that
she was aware of our return; otherwise it appeared as if she was
conscious of her influence for good over the passionate and
troubled woman kneeling before her, and would not willingly avert
her grave and loving eyes from that wrinkled and careworn
countenance.
Suddenly — in the twinkling of an eye — the creature appeared,
there, behind Lucy; fearfully the same as to outward semblance, but
kneeling exactly as Br
