I can for you.”  She caught hold of my hand and held it to her lips, and then to her bosom, and cried again, but more quietly, and all was right between us once more.  It was well for her, poor thing, that she could go to her bed.  And I said to myself, “Nobody need ever know about it; and nobody ever shall if I can help it.”  To tell the truth, my hope was that she would die before there was any need for further concealment.  “But people in that condition seldom die, they say, till all is over; and so she lived on and on, though plainly getting weaker and weaker.—­At the captain’s next visit, the wedding-day was fixed.  And after that a circumstance came about that made me uneasy.  A Hindoo servant—­the captain called him his nigger always—­had been constantly in attendance upon him.  I never could abide the snake-look of the fellow, nor the noiseless way he went about the house.  But this time the captain had a Hindoo woman with him as well.  He said that his man had fallen in with her in London; that he had known her before; that she had come home as nurse with an English family, and it would be very nice for his wife to take her back with her to India, if she could only give her house room, and make her useful till after the wedding.  This was easily arranged, and he went away to return in three weeks, when the wedding was to take place.  Meantime poor Emily grew fast worse, and how she held out with that terrible cough of hers I never could understand—­and spitting blood, too, every other hour or so, though not very much.  And now, to my great trouble, with the preparations for the wedding, I could see yet less of her than before; and when Miss Oldcastle sent the Hindoo to ask me if she might not sit in the room with the poor girl, I did not know how to object, though I did not at all like her being there.  I felt a great mistrust of the woman somehow or other.  I never did like blacks, and I never shall.  So she went, and sat by her, and waited on her very kindly—­at least poor Emily said so.  I called her Emily because she had begged me, that she might feel as if her mother were with her, and she was a child again.  I had tried before to find out from her when greater care would be necessary, but she couldn’t tell me anything.  I doubted even if she understood me.  I longed to have the wedding over that I might get rid of the black woman, and have time to take her place, and get everything prepared.  The captain arrived, and his man with him.  And twice I came upon the two blacks in close conversation.—­Well, the wedding-day came.  The people went to church; and while they were there a terrible storm of wind and snow came on, such that the horses would hardly face it.  The captain was going to take his bride home to his father, Sir Giles’s; but, short as the distance was, before the time came the storm got so dreadful that no one could think of leaving the house that night.  The wind blew for all the world just as it blows this night, only it was snow