Nobody entered the room except Mewks, who, when he did, seemed to watch everything, and try to hear everything, and once Lady Margaret.
When she saw Mary seated by the bed, though she must have known well enough she was there, she drew herself up with grand English repellence, and looked scandalized.

Mary rose, and was about to retire.
But Mr.Redmain motioned her to sit still.
"This is my spiritual adviser, Lady Margaret," he said.
Her ladyship cast a second look on Mary, such as few but her could cast, and left the room.
On into the gloom of the evening Mary sat.

No one brought her anything to eat or drink, and Mr.Redmain was too much taken up with himself, soul and body, to think of her.

She was now past hunger, and growing faint, when, through the settled darkness, the words came to her from the bed: "I should like to have you near me when I am dying, Mary." The voice was a softer than she had yet heard from Mr.Redmain, and its tone went to her heart.
"I will certainly be with you, if God please," she answered.
"There is no fear of God," returned Mr.Redmain; "it's the devil will try to keep you away.

But never you heed what any one may do or say to prevent you.