They took her to the Tower room and laid her on her sofa because she had faintly whispered.
"Please let me lie by the window," as they mounted the stone stairs.
"Open it wide," she whispered again when Macaur had left them alone.
"Are you--are you short of breath, my dear ?" Dowie asked opening the window very wide indeed.
"No," still in a whisper and with closed eyes.

"But--when I am not so tired--I want to--look--" She was silent for a few moments and Dowie stood by her side and watched her.
"-- At the end of the heather," the faint voice ended its sentence after a pause.

"I feel as if--something is there." She opened her eyes, "Something--I don't know what.

'Something.' Dowie!" frightened, "Are you--crying ?" Dowie frankly and helplessly took out a handkerchief and sat down beside her.

She had never done such a thing before.
"You cry yourself, my lamb," she said.