Behind a Mask - Page 32/84

"A clever, kindly little woman," he thought, and felt quite at his ease,

she was so perfectly easy herself.

"There, now you look more like yourself," she said with an approving nod

as she finished, and smoothed the dark locks off his forehead with a

cool, soft hand. Then seating herself in a large chair near by, she

began to sing, while tidily rolling up the fresh bandages which had been

left for the morning. Coventry lay watching her by the dim light that

burned in the room, and she sang on as easily as a bird, a dreamy,

low-toned lullaby, which soothed the listener like a spell. Presently,

looking up to see the effect of her song, she found the young man wide

awake, and regarding her with a curious mixture of pleasure, interest,

and admiration.

"Shut your eyes, Mr. Coventry," she said, with a reproving shake of the

head, and an odd little smile.

He laughed and obeyed, but could not resist an occasional covert glance

from under his lashes at the slender white figure in the great velvet

chair. She saw him and frowned.

"You are very disobedient; why won't you sleep?"

"I can't, I want to listen. I'm fond of nightingales."

"Then I shall sing no more, but try something that has never failed yet.

Give me your hand, please."

Much amazed, he gave it, and, taking it in both her small ones, she sat

down behind the curtain and remained as mute and motionless as a statue.

Coventry smiled to himself at first, and wondered which would tire

first. But soon a subtle warmth seemed to steal from the soft palms that

enclosed his own, his heart beat quicker, his breath grew unequal, and a

thousand fancies danced through his brain. He sighed, and said dreamily,

as he turned his face toward her, "I like this." And in the act of

speaking, seemed to sink into a soft cloud which encompassed him about

with an atmosphere of perfect repose. More than this he could not

remember, for sleep, deep and dreamless, fell upon him, and when he

woke, daylight was shining in between the curtains, his hand lay alone

on the coverlet, and his fair-haired enchantress was gone.