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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 40675 ***
+
+Nurse Elisia
+By George Manville Fenn
+Published by Cassell Publishing Company, New York.
+This edition dated 1892.
+
+Nurse Elisia, by George Manville Fenn.
+
+________________________________________________________________________
+
+________________________________________________________________________
+NURSE ELISIA, BY GEORGE MANVILLE FENN.
+
+CHAPTER ONE.
+
+THE ELTHORNES.
+
+Crick!
+
+"There: just as I expected.  The old story.  Hard and indigestible as
+lead."
+
+"I'm very sorry papa, dear."
+
+"Sorry!  What's the good of being sorry?  You know how I suffer from
+indigestion, and yet you persist in giving me eggs like that for my
+breakfast."
+
+Mr Ralph Elthorne, of Hightoft, in the county of Lincolnshire, threw
+down the knife with which he had given a savage chop at the side of an
+egg, as if to cut off the top at a blow, pushed away his plate so that
+the silver egg-cup fell over sidewise, finishing the breaking of the
+egg, and letting a thick stream of rich yellow yolk begin to flow, while
+the irritable gentleman made a snatch at the toast-rack, and uttered an
+angry ejaculation.
+
+"Will you take tea or coffee, papa, dear?" said the sweet, rather
+delicate looking girl seated at the head of the table; but there was no
+reply, and after exchanging glances with the lady, a good-looking,
+sun-tanned young fellow on her right said:
+
+"Let me send you some of this, father," and he "made an offer" at the
+hot water dish before him with a glistening spoon.
+
+"Eh?  What is it, Al?"
+
+"Kidneys, sir."
+
+"Bah!  No, I've got leather enough here.  Look at this.  Does that
+idiotic woman in the kitchen call this dry toast?  Look at it.  Only fit
+to make soles for shooting boots."
+
+"Rather caky," said the young man, with his mouth full.  "Not bad
+kidneys; nice and hot."
+
+"Well, Isabel, how long am I to wait for that cup of coffee?  No, I'll
+take tea."
+
+The girl, who had poured out two cupfuls tentatively, started up from
+her chair, and took the cup of tea round to the other end of the table,
+placed it beside the rather fierce looking elderly man, bent down and
+kissed his forehead, and hurried back to her place.
+
+"We never did have but one servant who could make the toast properly,"
+continued the head of the family.  "How is she, Isabel?  When is she
+coming back?"
+
+"Very soon, I hope, papa.  Neil mentions Maria in his letter this
+morning."
+
+"Eh?  Neil written to you?"
+
+"Yes, papa."
+
+"Humph!" ejaculated Mr Elthorne, making a dig at a pat of butter as it
+floated in water in the cooler, splashing some of the water over the
+cloth, and harpooning the said pat so insecurely that it dropped off his
+knife before it reached his plate.  "I think it would be more creditable
+to Neil if he wrote a little more often to his father."
+
+Alison Elthorne exchanged glances with his sister, and his lips moved as
+if he were speaking words which Isabel interpreted to mean, "Got out of
+bed wrong way."
+
+The breakfast went on.  Mr Elthorne placed a pair of spring folding
+glasses on his well-cut aquiline nose, and took up and frowned at a
+letter.  "When's Neil coming down?"
+
+"He did not say, papa.  He writes that poor Maria causes him a great
+deal of anxiety."
+
+"Poor Maria?  I think she ought to be very glad and grateful.  It is
+wonderful what is done for the poor in this country.  Here is this girl,
+taken up to London free of expense, placed in a magnificent institution,
+and receives the attention of such an eminent man as--hah, not a bad cup
+of tea,"--a long breath drawn after a hearty draught--"as Sir Denton
+Hayle, without counting that of Neil.  Is your aunt coming down to
+breakfast, or is she not?"
+
+"She will be down soon, papa.  She--she rather overslept herself."
+
+"Rubbish!  Idleness!  Pure idleness!  She knows how I hate to see an
+empty chair at the table.  Professes to keep house, and is never in her
+place at proper time.  Keep house, indeed!  Eggs like leaden bullets;
+toasts and kidneys like leather; tea half cold and not fit to drink;
+and--"
+
+"Now, papa, dear, you said just now that it was not a bad cup of tea."
+
+"Eh?  Did I?  Humph--a _lapsus linguae_," said Mr Elthorne with a grim
+smile, for his breakfast was softening down his asperities.  "Alison,
+ring that bell."
+
+The young man rose slowly and straddled to the fireplace after the
+fashion of men who are a good deal in the saddle, rang, and came back to
+the table.
+
+"Been in the stables this morning, Al?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"How did The Don look?"
+
+"Oh, right enough, but I don't like him any better, sir."
+
+"Prejudice, Al, prejudice.  Because I let someone else choose him
+instead of you.  Wants an older man to judge a horse."
+
+"Dare say it does, sir.  But I would not have given a hundred pounds for
+The Don--nor yet thirty," added the young man _sotto voce_.
+
+"Bah!  Prejudice, boy.  Sound wind and limb; well bred."
+
+"Granted, sir.  He is all that you say, but he has a temper.  You wanted
+a quieter animal--a nice weight-bearing, steady cob."
+
+"Indeed!" said Mr Elthorne, sarcastically, "or a donkey.  I'm growing
+so old and feeble."
+
+"You rang, sir," said the quiet, staid looking butler.
+
+"Yes; send one of the maids up to ask Mrs Barnett--humph!  Never mind."
+
+The butler held open the door for a rather stout, florid looking,
+middle-aged lady to enter, which she did in a hurried, bustling way,
+pressing her _pince-nez_ on to her nose.
+
+"Good-morning!" she exclaimed.  "I am so sorry, Ralph.  I hope I have
+not kept you waiting."
+
+"Oh, dear, no," began Mr Elthorne.  "Oh, hang it all, Anne, do mind,"
+he continued, as there was a click caused by the encountering of two
+pairs of spectacles, as the lady kissed him, and then bustled on to
+salute Alison with a similar kiss to that bestowed upon his father.
+
+"Morning, my dear.  Good-morning once more, Isabel, my dear."
+
+"And how are you now you have come?" said Mr Elthorne gruffly.
+
+"Oh, not at all well, Ralph, dear," sighed the lady, as she settled
+herself in her chair and spread her snowy napkin across her knees.
+"What have you there, Alison, dear?  Yes, I'll take one.  Coffee,
+please, Isabel dear.  It's very chilly this morning."
+
+"Very," said Mr Elthorne sarcastically.  "You should have a fire in
+your bedroom."
+
+"Well, really, Ralph, I think I will.  It is so cold getting up."
+
+She sneezed sharply.  There was a faint click, and a tiny splash in her
+cup.
+
+"Oh, dear me, look at that!" cried the lady.  "Isabel, my dear, will you
+pass me the sugar tongs.  Thanks."
+
+Alison burst into a fit of laughter as his aunt began solemnly to fish
+in her coffee cup for _her pince-nez_.
+
+"You shouldn't laugh, my dear."
+
+"Enough to make a donkey laugh," said Mr Elthorne grimly.
+
+"Did you mean that term for me, sir?" said Alison sharply.
+
+"No, Al, no," said his father coolly.  "If it had been meant for you I
+should have called you an ass."
+
+"Thank you," said the young man.
+
+"Quite welcome, Al.  You are one sometimes."  Alison frowned, but his
+annoyance passed off as he saw success attend his aunt's diving
+apparatus, for she made a successful plunge, brought out the dripping
+glasses, and began placidly to wipe them upon her napkin.
+
+"The springs of these glasses do get so terribly weak," she said, and
+then paused to raise her head, throw it back, and gaze plaintively up at
+a corner of the ceiling.
+
+"Er--er--er--er--"
+
+"What's the matter, Auntie?" said Alison mockingly.
+
+"Tchischew!--er--tischew!" she sneezed.  "Oh, dear me, what a cold I
+have caught!"
+
+"Be careful, then, not to put on damp spectacles, or you may make it
+worse," said Mr Elthorne, smiling.
+
+"You don't think so, do you, Ralph?"
+
+"No, Auntie; papa's making fun of you."
+
+"You shouldn't, Ralph; it really is too bad, and before the children,
+too.  But I'm afraid I'm going to have a very bad cold.  I wish Neil
+would make haste and come down."
+
+"What for?" said Mr Elthorne.
+
+"He seems to understand my constitution better than anyone I have ever
+been to."
+
+"Bah!" ejaculated her brother.  "He is only an apprentice to his trade.
+Mark my words: he'll poison you one of these days by making experiments
+upon you."
+
+"Really, my dear, you shouldn't.  I'm sure Neil has too much respect for
+his aunt to be so wicked," said the lady, going on with her breakfast
+very composedly.  "I hope he will soon cure Maria, though, and send her
+back.  I do miss her sadly."
+
+"Humph!" grumbled Mr Elthorne; "that's why you were so late, I
+suppose."
+
+"No, Ralph.  Alison, my dear, give me a bit of that toast that is soaked
+in gravy; thank you, my dear.  I do not say that; I know I am late this
+morning, but I do miss her very much.  But I thought you people were
+going out riding."
+
+"So we are," said Alison.
+
+Aunt Anne turned to her niece.
+
+"Oh, I can soon put on my riding habit, Auntie.  A little more sugar?"
+
+"Well, yes, just a very little more, my dear; thank you.  Ralph, I hope
+you will be careful over that new horse."
+
+"Why?" said Mr Elthorne, sharply; and Aunt Anne prattled on.
+
+"Because Alison was saying he thought it had a bad temper, and I always
+do feel so nervous about horses that kick and bite."
+
+"Perhaps you'd like me to be tied on."
+
+"Now, Ralph, you are making fun of me," said the lady placidly.  "Of
+course I should not."
+
+"Or have the groom with me to hold a leading-rein?"
+
+"Nonsense, Ralph, dear; that would be absurd; but if the horse bites, I
+should like you to make it wear that leather thing over its nose."
+
+"What?" roared Mr Elthorne.
+
+"The crib-biter's muzzle, father!" cried Alison, roaring with laughter;
+and the head of the house uttered a fierce growl.
+
+"I do not see anything to laugh at, Alison," said the lady reprovingly.
+"I may not understand much about horses, but I have heard that their
+bite is very dangerous."
+
+"Don't you go near him," said Mr Elthorne sneeringly.  "Al!"
+
+"Yes, father."
+
+"Is Sir Cheltnam coming over this morning?"  Isabel looked conscious,
+and glanced uneasily at the speaker.
+
+"Said he should," replied Alison.
+
+"Then you'd better mind what you are about."
+
+"I always do," said the young man sourly.
+
+"Don't speak to me in that tone, sir."
+
+"Now, Ralph, dear!--Alison!" cried Aunt Anne, turning from one to the
+other as she hastily interposed, to play the part of mediator.  "You
+should not speak so abruptly to papa.  But I'm sure he did not mean to
+be disrespectful, Ralph."
+
+"You mind your own business, madam; I can manage my children," growled
+Mr Elthorne.  "A puppy!  Do you think I'm blind?  Sir Cheltnam was
+cutting in before you all the time we were out last, and I could see
+that Dana was encouraging him out of pique.  She as good as owned to it
+afterward to me."
+
+"I don't suppose Burwood would like it if he knew you called him a
+puppy."
+
+"I did not, sir--I called you one."
+
+"Don't--pray don't be angry, Ralph," said Aunt Anne softly.
+
+"I told you to mind your own business, madam," said her brother shortly.
+"If you'd do that, and look after the housekeeping, I should not have
+my digestion ruined with gutta percha kidneys and leathery toast.  Now,
+look here, Alison, as this topic has cropped up, please understand me.
+I don't like to speak so plainly about such delicate matters, but one
+must be clear when the future careers of young people are in question."
+
+"Oh, dear me," muttered Alison.  "More coffee, Isabel," he added aloud,
+while his father pushed away his plate, took off his glasses, and began
+to swing them round by the string.
+
+"If that cord breaks, Ralph, those glasses will break something," said
+Aunt Anne, and Mr Elthorne uttered an impatient snort.
+
+"Now, look here, Alison.  I suppose you fully understand that I have a
+reason in encouraging the visits here of those two girls?"
+
+"Yes, father, I suppose so."
+
+"Humph--that's right; but don't be so indifferent.  Dana is an
+exceedingly pretty, clever girl; a splendid horsewoman; of good birth;
+and she and Saxa have capital portions.  One of them will have Morton,
+of course; in all probability Dana, for Saxa, when she marries your
+brother, will go to live in town.  Now, I should like to know what more
+a young fellow of your age could wish for--the money you will get from
+me, Morton Court, Dana's portion, and a pretty, clever wife."
+
+"I think you might have put the lady first, Ralph," said Aunt Anne.
+
+"Mrs Barnett, will you be good enough to finish your breakfast, and let
+me speak," said Mr Elthorne cuttingly.  "Then, by-and-by, you will be
+on the bench, and, before long, have a third of your aunt's money, for
+she cannot live long if she eats so much."
+
+"My dear Ralph," cried the lady.
+
+"Can you make any better plans, sir?  If so, pray let me hear them,
+there is no coercion--I merely ask you all to do well, and be happy."
+
+"Oh, no, I have no plans.  I like Dana very well.  She's a jolly enough
+girl."
+
+"Then that's settled, sir; only just bear it in mind, and don't let
+Burwood be stuffing her head full of nonsensical ideas.  Some girls
+would be attracted at once by the prospect of becoming `my lady,' but
+Dana is too shrewd."
+
+"Almost a pity that the girls have no brother," said Alison carelessly.
+
+"Why, sir?" said his father sharply.
+
+"Because then he could have married little Isabel, and completed the
+combination," said Alison, looking meaningly at his sister.
+
+"Don't be an ass, boy.  Hallo!  Who's this?" cried Mr Elthorne, turning
+sharply in his chair as a bell rang.
+
+"Only Beck, father.  I asked him to come with us."  Mr Elthorne turned
+upon his son mute with anger and annoyance; hence he did not notice the
+bright look and increase of colour in his daughter's face.  "You asked
+him to come over--this morning?"
+
+"Yes, father.  Poor beggar, he only has a few more days before he sails
+for China, and I thought it would be neighbourly.  Old Beck is always
+very nice to me."
+
+"Oh, very well," said Mr Elthorne abruptly; and Isabel uttered a low
+sigh of relief as she busied herself over her aunt's cup, suddenly
+displaying great anxiety that the placid looking lady should have some
+more coffee.
+
+"Better ask him in to breakfast, Al," said Mr Elthorne.
+
+"Yes; I was going to," said Alison, rising and leaving the room, to
+return in a few minutes with a frank, manly looking young fellow of
+seven or eight and twenty, whose face was of a rich, warm brown up to
+the centre of his forehead, and there became white up to his curly
+chestnut hair, which was a little darker than his crisp, closely cut
+beard.
+
+"Ah, Beck, come over for a ride with us?" said Mr Elthorne.  "How is
+the vicar?"
+
+"Quite well, sir."
+
+"And Mrs Beck?"
+
+"Oh, yes, sir.  Alison was good enough to ask me to join your party."
+
+He shook hands with the ladies, and there was rather a conscious look
+between Isabel and the visitor as their hands joined--one which did not
+escape the head of the family.
+
+"Sit down, Beck, sit down," he said, cordially enough, all the same.
+
+"Oh, I have breakfasted, sir."
+
+"Yes; we're late," said Mr Elthorne, with a look at Aunt Anne.
+
+"That means it is my fault, Mr Beck," said the lady; "but never mind,
+my dear, sit down and have some more.  Sailors always have good
+appetites."
+
+"Oh, well, just a drop of coffee," said the young man, for Isabel had
+quickly filled a cup, and was holding it out to him.  "Thanks, Miss
+Elthorne; but really I did not mean--"
+
+"You are on the vicar's cob?" said Mr Elthorne quickly, as he noted his
+daughter's heightened colour, and the young man's hesitation and evident
+pleasure.
+
+"Try some of this game pie, Beck," cried Alison, pushing over a plate.
+"Aunt Anne finished the kidneys."
+
+"Ally, my dear."
+
+"Oh, thanks," said the visitor, taking the plate as he settled himself
+at the table.  "Cob, sir?  Oh, no; a friend sent me over one of his
+horses.  I have had it these three days."
+
+A curious look of trouble crossed Isabel's countenance, and she sat
+watching the speaker as he went on: "That's the worst of being ashore.
+Everyone is so kind.  I am always spoiled, and it takes me a month to
+get over it when I get back to my ship."
+
+"And when do you go?" said Mr Elthorne.
+
+"This day fortnight, sir."
+
+"For six months, isn't it?"
+
+"There is no certainty, sir, I'm sorry to say.  We may be ordered on to
+Japan afterward."
+
+"Isabel, my dear, I am sure Mr Beck will excuse you."
+
+"Eh?  Oh, yes, certainly," said the visitor with his lips, but with a
+denial of the words in his eyes.
+
+"Go and put on your riding habit, my dear.  Aunt Anne will pour out the
+coffee."
+
+"Yes, papa," said the girl; and she rose, and, after exchanging glances
+with their visitor, left the room.
+
+"Oh, yes, I'll pour out the coffee," said Aunt Anne, changing her seat.
+"You are very fond of riding, Mr Beck, are you not?"
+
+"Well, ye-es," said the young man, laughing, and with an apologetic look
+at his host and friend; "I like it very much, but I always seem such a
+poor horseman among all these hard riders, and feel as if I ought to
+congratulate myself when I get back safe."
+
+"Oh, well," said Mr Elthorne condescendingly, "you would have the laugh
+at us if you got us to sea.  Did you see anything of Sir Cheltnam?"
+
+"No; I came by the lower road."
+
+"Here he is--they are, I ought to say," cried Alison, jumping up and
+going to the window.
+
+"Eh?" ejaculated Mr Elthorne, rising too, and joining his son at the
+window to watch a party of three coming across the park at a hard
+gallop--the party consisting of two ladies and a gentleman, with one of
+the ladies leading, well back in her saddle, evidently quite at her
+ease.
+
+"Humph," muttered Mr Elthorne; and then in a low voice to his son: "Of
+course.  If you had had any brains you would have ridden out to meet
+them, and not left them to another escort."
+
+"Oh, I shall be with them all day, sir, and--Ah Saxa, you foolish girl,"
+he cried excitedly, of course with his words perfectly inaudible to the
+member of the group whom he was addressing.  "The horse will rush that
+fence as sure as I'm here.  Oh, hang all wire and hurdles!"
+
+"What's the matter?" cried Beck, starting from the table as Alison
+opened the French window and stepped out.  "My word, how those two girls
+can ride."
+
+"Like Amazons, sir," said Mr Elthorne proudly, as he watched the party,
+now coming over the closely cropped turf at quite a racing pace; and his
+voice was full of the excitement he felt.  "Will she see it, Al, my boy?
+Yes, she rises--cleared it like a swallow.  Bravo!  With such a lead
+the others are safe to--"
+
+"Well done!  Well over!" cried Alison, from outside, as he began
+clapping his hands.
+
+"Capital!  Bravo!" cried Mr Elthorne, following his son's example, as
+he now stepped outside to meet the party who were rapidly coming up
+after skimming over the hurdle which formed part of the ring fence of
+the estate.
+
+"All safe over, Mrs Barnett," said the vicar's son, returning to the
+table.
+
+"Then they don't deserve to be, Mr Beck," said the lady.  "I do not
+approve of girls being so horribly masculine.  If our Isabel were like
+that, I should feel as if I had not done my duty to her since her poor
+mother died."
+
+"But she is not like that," said the visitor, after a quick glance at
+the open window.
+
+"No, my dear, not a bit.  I hate to see young ladies such tomboys.  But
+there--poor girls!--no mother--no father."
+
+"And no Aunt Anne to guide them," interpolated the visitor.
+
+"Thank you, my dear.  It's very nice of you to say so.  I'm afraid I'm
+not clever, but I do try to act a mother's part to dear Isabel.  I don't
+know, though, what I shall do when Neil and Alison marry those two.
+They don't like me a bit, and, between ourselves, I really don't like
+them."
+
+"Morning, daddy," came in a loud, breathless voice from the outside.
+"What do you think of that?"
+
+"Morning," came in another voice; and the word was repeated again in the
+deep tones of a man, and supplemented by the snortings of horses.
+
+"Morning, my dears.  Capital!  But very imprudent.  I will not have you
+trying to break that pretty little neck--nor you neither, Dana.
+Burwood, you should not have encouraged them."
+
+"I?  That's good, Mr Elthorne.  They both took the bit in their teeth,
+and all I could do was to follow."
+
+"Oh, stuff and nonsense!" cried the second voice.  "What a fuss about a
+canter.  Come, you folks, are you ready?"
+
+"How's Aunt Anne?"
+
+"Good gracious me!  Is the girl mad?" cried that lady, as there was the
+crunching of gravel, the window was darkened, a horse's hoofs sounded
+loudly on the step, and the head and neck of a beautiful animal were
+thrust right into the room, with the bright, merry face of a girl close
+behind, as its owner stooped to avoid the top of the window and peered
+in.
+
+"Hallo!  There you are.  Good-morning!  We've had such a gallop.
+Where's Isabel?  Hallo, sailor, how are you?"
+
+"My dear child, don't--pray don't," cried Aunt Anne.  "You'll be having
+some accident.  Suppose that horse put his foot through the glass."
+
+"Good job for the glazier.  Here Tom Beck, give Biddy some lumps of
+sugar."
+
+"Bless the child!" cried Aunt Anne.  "Oh, here's Isabel.  Mr Beck, take
+the sugar basin, and back that dreadful animal out."
+
+The young sailor obeyed her to the letter, as Isabel entered to look on
+laughingly, while the other touched the skittish mare upon which she was
+seated, so that it might join in crunching up the sweet pieces of sugar
+with which they were fed in turn.
+
+"Morning, parson," said the new arrival with the deep-toned voice, to
+Tom Beck, as the young lieutenant went on sugaring the two steeds.
+"Thought you were off to sea again."
+
+"Did you?" said Beck, meeting his eyes with a lump of sugar in his hand,
+and with rather a stern, fixed look, from which the new arrival turned
+with a half laugh.
+
+"Yes; you sailors are here to-day and gone to-morrow."
+
+"Exactly," said Beck; "but this is to-day and not to-morrow."
+
+"Mr Beck--take care!"
+
+It was Isabel who cried out in alarm, but her warning was too late, for
+the handsome mare which Dana Lydon rode had stretched out its neck and
+taken the lump of sugar the young lieutenant was holding; and as he
+turned sharply, it was at the sudden grip, for the greater part of his
+hand was held between the horse's teeth.
+
+"Great Heavens!" cried Mr Elthorne.
+
+"Wait a moment, I'll make her leave go," cried Dana, raising her whip to
+strike the animal between the ears.
+
+"Stop!" cried Beck sharply, as he caught the mare's bit with his left
+hand, standing firmly the while, but with his face drawn with pain.  "If
+you do that she'll crush the bones."
+
+Isabel uttered a faint sob, and turned white, while Sir Cheltnam sprang
+from his horse and stepped close to her.
+
+"Don't be frightened," he whispered, giving additional pain now to the
+young sailor in the shape of that which was mental.
+
+Isabel paid no heed to him or his words, but stood gazing wildly at the
+brave young fellow whose hand was gripped as if in a vice by the
+powerful jaws, but who, beyond knitting his brows and turning pale, made
+no sign.
+
+"Here, Alison," cried Mr Elthorne, "take the other side of the mare's
+muzzle.  She'll crush his hand."
+
+"No, no," said the young man, quickly.  "She'll let go soon.  Be quiet,
+all of you, or you'll startle her."
+
+The young man's words were full of the authoritative tone of one
+accustomed to command in emergencies; but his voice shook a little at
+the last, for he was oppressed by a deadly feeling of sickness which he
+fought hard to resist, while the group closed round him, and there was a
+low buzz of excitement through which came the trampling of other horses,
+as the grooms led them round from the stable yard.
+
+Tom Beck felt that he could hold out no longer.  He had tried and
+manfully to combat the physical pain at a time when the mental was
+agonising, for he had seen the young baronet approach Isabel and whisper
+to her, and he had felt that any increase of the terrible grip would
+mean a horrible mutilation, and the utter blasting of his career and his
+hopes.  Despair was combining with the sensation of faintness; and with
+the scene around him growing dim and the excited voices beginning to
+sound muffled and strange, nature was rapidly conquering the education
+of a brave man who had been schooled to face danger unmoved; he turned
+his eyes wildly to where Isabel stood.
+
+But that look moved her to spring forward, lay her hand on the mare's
+muzzle, and falter out vainly a few caressing words.  Worse than vainly,
+for the mare lowered her head, and increased the sufferer's agony.
+
+"Don't," he whispered hoarsely.
+
+"Dana, I shall have to shoot her," cried Mr Elthorne hoarsely.
+
+Alison pressed forward, and passed his arm about his friend's waist, for
+he saw that he was ready to fall, and the morning's comedy was on the
+point of becoming tragic, when a loud neigh came from one of the horses
+being led around to the front, and Beck's hand fell from the mare's
+jaws, for she threw up her head and uttered a whinnying answer to the
+challenge of Mr Elthorne's new hunter, The Don.
+
+"Ah!"
+
+It was more a groan than a sigh of relief from all around, while,
+tightening her rein, Dana cut the mare across the ears with all her
+might; and as the graceful animal bounded forward, she kept on lashing
+it furiously, making it curvet and plunge and snort, as it excited the
+other horses near.
+
+"Don't! don't!  Dana," cried her sister.  "She'll throw you."
+
+"A vicious beast!--a vicious beast!" panted the girl, as she still plied
+her whip till Mr Elthorne caught her arm.
+
+Beck stood, half supported by Alison, watching Isabel being assisted
+into the breakfast-room by her aunt and Sir Cheltnam, till she
+disappeared, when he reeled slightly, but made an effort to recover
+himself.
+
+"Much hurt, old man?"
+
+"No," he said hoarsely; "a nasty grip.  Tell that girl not to beat the
+mare.  It was not wise."
+
+"Now, how is he?" cried Mr Elthorne, coming back.  "Help him in.  Send
+one of the grooms for the doctor."
+
+"No, no, sir," said Beck, with a faint laugh, as he held up the hand
+deeply indented by the mare's teeth.  "It's nothing to mind.  Shan't be
+a one-armed Greenwich pensioner this time."
+
+"Oh, my dear boy! my dear boy!" cried an excited voice, and Aunt Anne
+came rushing out of the window with a cup and saucer.  "Here, drink
+this."
+
+"Anne!  Don't be so foolish," cried her brother.  "He doesn't want tea."
+
+"But there's brandy in it, Ralph," protested the lady.  "Drink it, my
+dear; it will do you good."
+
+"Thanks," said Beck, raising his injured hand to take the cup, but
+letting it fall again.  "Not this time," he said with a laugh, and
+taking the cup with his left he drained it.  "That's better, Mrs
+Barnett," he said.  "There, I'm very sorry, Mr Elthorne, I've made
+quite an upset."
+
+"And I'm very glad, my boy," replied his host.  "What a horrible
+mishap!"
+
+"How is he?" cried Dana, cantering up with her sister.
+
+"Oh, it's nothing--nothing at all."
+
+"That's right," cried Saxa.  "Oh, it will soon go off.  Not so bad as a
+spill by a five-bar."
+
+"Get a liqueur," said Dana.  "I say; it has made you look white.  Worse
+disasters at sea, eh?"
+
+"Much," said Beck, quietly; and then to himself, "Oh, how I do hate a
+horsey woman."
+
+"I say," cried Saxa; "this isn't going to spoil our ride, is it, daddy?"
+
+"Oh, no, I hope not; but I will stay, my dears," said Mr Elthorne.
+
+"What! and not try your new horse!  I should like to have the saddle
+shifted, and put him through his paces myself," said Saxa, looking at
+the noble hunter held by a groom.
+
+"No, no, my dear, not to-day," said Mr Elthorne hastily.  "Alison will
+go with you, girls, and--oh, there's Burwood.  Ask how Isabel is.  Say
+it's all right now, and the horses are waiting.  She turned faint, I
+suppose.  Beck, come in; you had better see the doctor."
+
+"Nonsense, my dear sir.  I'm all right.  It isn't my bridle hand.  I
+shall not want a whip."
+
+"Oh, no," said Sir Cheltnam; "your mount wants no whip.  Shall you
+venture?"
+
+"Of course," said Beck, walking toward where a helper held his horse,
+just as Isabel came out, looking very pale.
+
+"Well, he has got some pluck in him, Al," said Sir Cheltnam, "even if he
+is a parson's son."
+
+"Poor fellow! yes," replied Alison.
+
+"Moral," said Sir Cheltnam laughingly, to the Lydon girls, "never give
+lumps of sugar to a skittish mare."
+
+Ten minutes later the little party were mounted and moved off, leaving
+Aunt Anne waving her lace handkerchief from the steps.
+
+CHAPTER TWO.
+
+NURSE ELISIA.
+
+The roar of the big road sounded plainly, but it was far enough off for
+it to be subdued into a mellow hum, suggestive to the country sufferer
+lying in the narrow bed with its clean linen and neat blue checked
+hangings by the open window, of bees swarming, and a threshing machine
+at work in the farm beyond the park.
+
+And yet it was London, for the windows were coated with a sooty layer
+outside, and the sun shone as if Nature were afraid its beams would be
+too strong for Londoners' eyes, to which it came as in an eclipse
+through smoked glass, and a murky haze full of germs and motes was
+interposed between the dwellers in the city and the blue sky above.
+
+The ward was long and clean, and every bed was occupied.  The air was
+fairly fresh and pleasant, though dashed with the odour of antiseptics.
+But there was none of the faint medicinal effluvia of the sick wards,
+for this was surgical--the special empire of the celebrated Sir Denton
+Hayle, well known in his profession as the most skillful and daring
+operator this generation has seen.  There were those who shrugged their
+shoulders and said he had murdered many a patient, and it was true that
+a percentage--thanks to his skill, a very small percentage--of his
+sufferers had died; but, on the other hand, he could point to those whom
+he had saved from an apparently inevitable early death, brought on by
+one of the evils of poor human nature which had heretofore set medical
+and surgical skill at defiance.
+
+Maria Bellows, in other respects a stout, hearty, country lass, had been
+one of these sufferers, and the provincial doctors called in to Hightoft
+by Aunt Anne to see the upper housemaid, had shaken their heads and said
+there was only one thing that would save her, and that was to go up to
+the great East Central Hospital and place herself in the hands of Sir
+Denton Hayle.
+
+Then, during one of his visits home, Aunt Anne insisted upon Neil
+Elthorne seeing the woman.  Mr Elthorne said it was absurd, but he was
+quiet afterward when he heard that his son had also declared that the
+only thing that could save the patient's life was for her to come up to
+the hospital in town.  Furthermore, he said that he would speak to the
+illustrious chief under whom he studied, and see that every arrangement
+was made for her reception.
+
+Maria went up, and now lay by the open window thinking of the country,
+of how long it would be before the doctors made her well again and sent
+her back to her situation.  Then she wondered how Miss Isabel was, and
+Mr Alison, and how soon there would be weddings at the house.  For it
+was an open secret among the servants at Hightoft that "Master's" sons
+were to marry the Misses Lydon, and that Miss Isabel would become Lady
+Burwood.
+
+"I shall be glad to get back," she said at last with a sigh.  "I always
+thought London was a gay place, but--ugh!--it is dull."
+
+"Dull lying here, my poor girl," said a sweet voice, and she turned
+sharply and uttered a cry of pain with the effort.
+
+In an instant busy hands were about her, changing her position and
+wiping the agony-engendered perspiration from her brow before assisting
+her to drink a little water.
+
+"I am sorry I startled you."
+
+Maria looked half angrily in the beautiful face bent over her, with its
+clearly cut, aristocratic features and large eyes, which gazed
+searchingly into her own.  For it was a countenance that attracted
+attention with its saddened, pitying look, heightened by the smooth
+white cap and stiffened quaint linen "bib and tucker," as our mothers
+termed the old puritan-like costume, the whole being strongly suggestive
+of the portrait of some lady of the Pilgrim Father days.
+
+"You came so quiet, you quite frightened me," said the woman.
+
+"Your nerves are over-strung," was the reply.  "I ought to have known
+better."
+
+There was something so sweet and soothing in the deep musical tones of
+the soft voice that it had its effect upon the patient directly, and she
+lay back with a sigh.
+
+"It don't matter, nurse," she said, "but do make haste and get me well."
+
+"Indeed, we are trying very hard.  But you are mending fast.  Sir Denton
+will be here soon to see you again."
+
+"Yes," said the woman, with her brow growing rugged and a petulance of
+manner, "to hurt me again, horrid.  He'll kill me before he has done."
+
+"You do not think so, Maria," said the nurse gently, as she laid her
+cool white hand upon the patient's brow.  "He is as tender and gentle as
+a woman, and he takes great interest in your case."
+
+"But, I say, they won't take me into the theatre again, will they?  Oh,
+I say, what a shame to call that horrid place a theatre!"
+
+"No; that is all over now, and you have nothing to do now but get well
+and go back to the country."
+
+"But it takes so long, and it was so horrid with all those doctors and
+people, and the chloroform, and stuff, and--"
+
+"Do you not think it would be better," said the nurse gently, "if,
+instead of looking at what has passed in that spirit, you were to try
+and remember it only with gratitude, and think that a month back you
+were in a very dangerous state, while now you are rapidly getting well?"
+
+"I don't know," said the woman querulously.  "It's very horrid lying
+here listening to other people complaining and saying how bad they are,
+and no one near who knows you."
+
+"Come, come," said the nurse gently, "you are hot and tired.  I have
+brought you some flowers and fruit.  There!"
+
+She placed a bunch of roses in the patient's hand, and placed a bunch of
+large grapes before her on the bed.
+
+"Thanky," said the woman, ungraciously, as she sniffed at the flowers.
+"But they're not very fresh."
+
+"No," said the nurse, smiling; "but you must recollect that they had to
+be cut in the country and sent up by rail.  Try a few of the grapes."
+
+She held up a little tray, and the patient picked one or two grapes off
+the bunch with an indifferent air.
+
+"Not much of grapes," she said.  "You should see them in the vineries at
+Hightoft.  Much nicer than these poor tasteless things."
+
+"I am sorry they're not better, Maria," said the nurse with a pitying
+smile.  "They were the best I could get.  You must remember we are in
+London."
+
+"Oh, yes; it isn't your fault, nurse.  You can't help it."
+
+"Eat a few more."
+
+"No; I don't want 'em.  I say, how long will the doctor be?  I want to
+know if I mayn't get up."
+
+"I can tell you that, Maria.  Not yet.  Try and be patient and trust to
+us."
+
+"Oh, very well," said the girl petulantly; "but it's horrid lying here
+so long."
+
+"Do you think you could read a little if I brought you a book?"
+
+"No.  It only makes me tired.  I hate reading."
+
+"Hush!  Here is Mr Elthorne."
+
+As she spoke a tall, keen-looking, youngish man approached the bed.  He
+was handsome and with a strong resemblance to his father; but his high
+forehead wore a peculiarly thoughtful, intent look, and there were the
+lines in his face made by constant devotion to some study, and a
+something in his eyes which suggested that he was thinking deeply of an
+object which had eluded his mental grasp.
+
+"Good-morning," he said quietly.  "How is your patient?"
+
+"A little nervous and restless, sir.  Ought she not to have change?"
+
+"Yes," said the young surgeon, taking the patient's hand and watching
+her intently.  "As soon as we can move her, but we must hasten slowly.
+You will be glad to get back--home, Maria?"
+
+"Oh, yes, sir, please, sir.  I am so tired of being here."
+
+"I suppose so," said the young surgeon.  "Naturally;" and he turned to
+the nurse with a slight shrug of his shoulders.
+
+"It is so sad and painful, sir," she said gravely.  "Poor thing!  I am
+sure she has tried to be very patient."
+
+"Well, we will hear what Sir Denton says."
+
+Neil Elthorne went across the ward to another bed, and Maria uttered a
+little laugh.
+
+"What amuses you?"
+
+"Oh, nothing, nurse; I was only thinking.  Of course I want to get home
+again.  Anybody would."
+
+"Well, be patient.  You are getting better, and you must think of health
+and strength, and the bright country life, where you will have fresh
+flowers and better fruit, and be among your friends."
+
+The nurse smiled, and then placed a little bottle of lavender water in
+her patient's hand.
+
+"To sprinkle about you when you feel faint," she said.
+
+"Thanky," said the woman, in a tone of voice which robbed the word of
+thankfulness; and the nurse went across to where the young surgeon was
+busy with another patient.
+
+"And she knows I don't like lavender water," grumbled the woman.
+"Always trying to play the fine lady nurse, and showing off, and I don't
+believe she's a lady at all.  A real lady would have brought Padchouly
+or Odyklone.  Think I don't know.  Flowers and grapes only cheap
+rubbish.  Can't afford better, I suppose."
+
+She lay back watching the actions of nurse and surgeon the while, and
+commenting thereon.
+
+"She's an artful one, she is, with all her demure looks and mincing
+ways.  I'm not blind.  Only come here because she can wear them
+play-acting clothes and show off.  I haven't patience with her.  Lady
+nurse, indeed.  No more a lady than I am.  Yes, of course.  Look at
+that.  But it won't do, madam.  He's engaged, and if I see much more of
+it I'll tell the old doctor--see if I don't.  You're not going to trap
+our Master Neil, and so I tell you.  I should like to set Miss Saxa at
+her.  My word, she'd startle my lady.  Well, now; look at that!"
+
+There was not much to see, only that Neil Elthorne had spoken as they
+were leaving the other patient's bedside, and the nurse had turned to
+look at him as if half startled, and then turned away and came back
+seeming slightly disturbed.  But by the time she had reached the first
+patient's bedside her face was perfectly calm again, and an unbiased
+observer would have said that it was very beautiful in its gentle,
+resigned expression.
+
+"Let me sprinkle a little of the scent for you," she said.
+
+"Oh, very well.  If you like," said Maria ungraciously.  Then quickly,
+and with a flash of suspicion in her eyes, "I say, why do you look at me
+like that?  You don't think I shall die, do you?"
+
+"Oh, no," said the nurse, smiling, "indeed no.  You will get better and
+go."
+
+"But lots of them do die, don't they?"
+
+"Some do, unfortunately; but why should you think of that?"
+
+"You've seen lots die, haven't you?"
+
+"Yes," said the nurse gravely; "in spite of all our efforts; and I have
+seen many grow strong and well, thanks to the skill of Sir Denton Hayle
+and Mr Elthorne."
+
+"We always call him Mr Neil at home; master's Mr Elthorne."
+
+"And go away at last, cured," continued the nurse, not heeding the
+interruption, "thankful for Heaven's mercy and full of gratitude to
+those who have tended them."
+
+"So am I," said Maria, shortly.  "You think I'm not, but I am."
+
+"Hush!  Do not talk.  You are getting flushed and excited.  Here is Sir
+Denton."
+
+"That's right," muttered Maria, as the nurse left the bedside to go
+toward a slight little white-haired gentleman, closely shaven, and whose
+lips were closely compressed, as, with his large, deeply-set eyes he
+gave a quick glance round the ward, which became perfectly still as he
+approached.
+
+"Good-morning," he said.  "Come, my child, this will not do.  Too pale!
+Too much application.  The nurse will have to be nursed if we go on like
+this."
+
+"Oh, no, I am quite well, Sir Denton," she said, smiling, with quite an
+affectionate look in her face.
+
+"Then I am an ignorant old pretender, my child," he said gravely.
+"Well, Elthorne, anything special to report?"
+
+"Number forty-four, here, not quite so well as I should like to see her.
+Been a little feverish in the night, has she not, nurse?"
+
+"Yes, sir," replied the nurse; "but if I might say so--."
+
+"Of course, of course," said Sir Denton, "a little irritable."
+
+"I think it is more that she is fretting to get away from here, than
+from any fresh complication."
+
+"Let's see," said the keen-looking old surgeon, turning at once to the
+bed, where Maria had lain watching them and trying to catch their words.
+"Well," he said aloud, as he seated himself and made his rapid
+examination, "flowers and fruit, and a clear eye and a clean tongue.
+Healthy look, too, about your skin, and the colour coming back.  Why,
+you may get up--yes, for an hour or two, say the day after to-morrow,
+and in another week or two we will send you back home cured.  What do
+you say to that?"
+
+"Thanky, sir."
+
+"Strange woman, that," said Sir Denton, an hour later, when he was
+leaving the ward.  "I believe that when she was made, all the atoms or
+particles which go to form the virtue known as gratitude were left out.
+What do you say, nurse?"
+
+"The poor woman has suffered a great deal."
+
+"Yes, but she might have shown some little thankfulness to you for what
+you have done."
+
+"I, Sir Denton?" said the nurse deprecatingly.  "Yes, my child, you.
+What I have done would have been useless without your help.  But there,
+it is waste of words to praise you, for you are a dreadful sceptic.  By
+the way, Elthorne, there is nothing to prevent you from taking a week's
+run.  You ought to have it now."
+
+"I don't like to leave till that woman is perfectly safe from a
+relapse."
+
+"Well, she is now, so go.  It will suit me better than if you wait to go
+later on.  Nurse Elisia and I will see to her.  I suppose you will trust
+us?"
+
+"What a question!" said the young surgeon.  "Well, under those
+circumstances I will go for a few days--say four."
+
+"Take a fortnight, man."
+
+"No; the time I said.  I should not go down only my people consider that
+I am neglecting them.  I shall be back at the end of four days."
+
+He glanced sharply at the nurse as he spoke, and she met his eyes in the
+most calm, unmoved way.
+
+"You may depend upon my taking every care of the patient, Mr Elthorne,"
+she said quietly.
+
+"Thank you; I am sure you will," he said with his brow wrinkling a
+little.  But he mastered himself the next minute, as he gave a few
+directions concerning other patients in the ward.
+
+"Tut, man! that will do," said Sir Denton, impatiently.  "The conceit of
+you young fellows is dreadful.  Do you think there will be screens drawn
+round all the beds just because you are out of the way?  We'll try and
+keep your patients alive."
+
+Neil laughed good-humouredly.
+
+"I have perfect faith in nurse," he said apologetically.  "Forgive me
+for being anxious about my ward."
+
+"Partly humbug, my dear boy," said the great surgeon to himself.  "But
+there, I don't blame him."  Then aloud: "My dear Elthorne, seriously, I
+think change is necessary sometimes, and take my word for it, as an old
+experienced man, when I say that a holiday is no waste of time.  You
+will come back clearer-headed, and with your nerves toned up.  When you
+come back I shall myself take a few days' rest, and I can do so with the
+pleasant feeling of confidence that everything here in my ward will go
+on exactly as I could wish--thanks to you both."
+
+"Thanks to your teachings," said Neil.
+
+"Well, perhaps I have done my best.  You are wanted there."
+
+One of the dressers had come up and was waiting to speak, and Neil went
+off with him directly to the other end of the ward.
+
+"He will be a great man one of these days, nurse," said the old surgeon
+quietly.  "His heart is in his work, and he is having chances far beyond
+any that came to my lot when I was young.  We have made such vast
+strides during the past five and twenty years.  And now, my child, a
+word or two with you."
+
+"With me, Sir Denton?" said the nurse, with the blood flushing up at
+once into her pale cheeks.
+
+"Yes," he said, watching her keenly.  "Proof positive.  The colour
+flooded your face directly I spoke.  You are as nervous as if you had
+been ill."
+
+"Oh, I am quite well, Sir Denton," she said hastily.
+
+"No, you are not, my child.  You are over-strung.  You have been working
+too hard, and you are on the point of breaking down.  Your life is too
+valuable to us all here for your health to be trifled with."
+
+"Indeed, I--"
+
+"Know nothing about it," said the old man decisively.  "I do, and I know
+that your heart is so much in your work that you would go on till you
+dropped.  You must have change from the air of this place."
+
+"Really, Sir Denton, I am--"
+
+"Going to do exactly as I bid you, nurse; and I wish that you would look
+upon me as a very old friend, and not merely as a crotchety surgeon, who
+worries and bullies the nurses about his patients."
+
+"Indeed, you have always been most kind and considerate to me, Sir
+Denton."
+
+"Have I?  I thought I was very inconsiderate sometimes, and found a
+great deal of fault."
+
+"You have just given me proof of the interest you take in me, Sir
+Denton."
+
+"Ah, well, we all try to do our best.  Then, as your friend, I shall
+insist upon your taking a month."
+
+"A month, Sir Denton?"
+
+"Yes; it is quite necessary; and you, too, will come back like a lioness
+refreshed, ready to battle with our troubles here.  Look, that woman
+wants you," he continued, nodding toward Maria's bed.  "Don't spoil her
+too much.  She's an ungrateful baggage.  I've noticed her.  Behaves to
+you as if you were her servant."
+
+"Oh, I do not mind," said the nurse, smiling.  "That's right.  Neither
+do I, for we've made a splendid cure of it, nurse.  It's a perfect
+triumph for science.  I shall have to read a paper upon her case at the
+Institution.  Morning.  I shall insist upon your going away soon."
+
+Sir Denton went out of the ward in a quick, energetic way, and Nurse
+Elisia crossed to Maria's bed.  "Did you want me?" she said gently.
+
+"Yes, of course I did.  It's too bad for you to stop away talking to the
+doctor so long."
+
+"Sir Denton was giving me instructions partly," said the nurse.
+
+"Yes, partly," said the woman maliciously.  "Things go on at hospitals
+that wouldn't be allowed in a gentleman's house, I can tell you."
+
+The nurse's eyes flashed, but her voice was unchanged as she said
+quietly:
+
+"What did you wish me to do for you?"
+
+"Oh, you needn't turn it off.  I'm not blind.  I've seen and noticed a
+deal while I've been lying here.  Isn't it time I had my meat jelly?"
+
+"No," said the nurse quietly.  "I should have brought it to you if it
+had been time."
+
+"I don't know so much about that.  Never mind.  I shall soon be fit to
+go, and precious glad of it."
+
+"Yes, it will be a great relief for you to get away."
+
+"And so Mr Neil's going for a holiday down home.  I suppose he can't
+stop away any longer without running down to see his sweetheart.
+Shouldn't wonder if he got married before he comes back."
+
+She gazed in the nurse's face with eyes full of low-class cunning,
+expecting to see there a peculiar shrinking--the wincing of one found
+out.  But the countenance into which she gazed was perfectly calm and
+unruffled.
+
+"Can I do anything more for you?"
+
+"No; not now.  Thank ye," said the woman ungraciously; "I'm going to
+have a nap."
+
+"Do," said the nurse, rearranging the pillow.  "If you do not find that
+it interferes with your night's rest, sleep as much as you can.  It
+gives nature a better opportunity to build up your strength again."
+
+"Yes; but I'm not blind," said Maria to herself, as she saw the nurse go
+and bend over another patient, and try to alleviate her sufferings.
+"I've been long enough in the world to know what's what.  I've seen too
+much here.  She's a nasty, artful one.  She's playing the fine lady, and
+mincing and using big words, and trying to lead Mr Neil on till he is
+getting ever so stupid over her, and then she looks up at him as meek
+and innocent as a lamb, and as much as to say: `Oh, my! what do you
+mean?'  Wait till I get home again, and master shall know all about it,
+and if he don't put a stop to it pretty sharp, my name isn't Maria.
+Such impudence!  A common hospital nurse trying to lead him on.  Ugh!  I
+hate the smooth, whitefaced thing, dressed up in her starchy cap and
+collar and cuffs, and making believe to be so superior.  Oh, how I
+should like to see Miss Saxa have a turn at her.  I'll tell her; that I
+will.  I haven't patience with the creature; and as for Mr Neil, he
+ought to be ashamed of himself."
+
+Nurse Elisia was having her fit of musing about the same time, and her
+face for the moment looked troubled and strange.
+
+CHAPTER THREE.
+
+NEIL AT HOME.
+
+"Morning, Elthorne.  Had breakfast?"
+
+"No," said Alison, as he patted the neck of Sir Cheltnam's horse, just
+reined up in front of the house.  "No one down yet but the gov'nor and
+Isabel."
+
+"Isabel?" said the baronet eagerly.  "Where is she?"
+
+"Garden, I think.  No, no.  Don't go after her.  You'll only scare her
+away.  If you want that to come off, you must be careful.  There, walk
+your horse round and come in to breakfast."
+
+"Had it."
+
+"Then come and have another.  We shan't start for our ride these two
+hours."
+
+"Oh, hang it!  Mr Elthorne said he wanted me to see him put his horse
+through his paces.  He's not quite satisfied with his deal."
+
+"Yes, and ride alongside of Isabel."
+
+"Humph--perhaps."
+
+"And look here, young man, if you don't wish to develop a row you had
+better be a little more attentive."
+
+"I should be attentive enough, but your sister seems to prefer the
+attentions of the parson's boy."
+
+"What, Beck?  Oh, he's nobody.  Besides, he'll be off to sea directly,
+and you'll be married and have a family before he comes back.  That is,
+if--"
+
+"If?  What do you mean?"
+
+"The governor has not thrown you over, and Neil has not knocked your
+head off."
+
+"Propound, O, Sphinx.  Read me the riddle."
+
+"I mean that if the governor sees you so attentive to Saxa, he'll cry
+off, and if Neil notices it he will pitch into you.  I should if I saw
+you hanging after Dana as you do after her sister."
+
+"Rubbish, man!  A few civil words to a lady who rides well."
+
+"Sort of civil words the dad does not understand in his quiet,
+old-fashioned way.  I suppose it is to be Isabel, is it not?"
+
+"Of course; that is understood."
+
+"Very well, then, behave yourself, and don't let Neil see anything, for
+he is as hot and peppery as--"
+
+"You are."
+
+"If you like.  He's down, you know."
+
+"Who is?  Your brother?"
+
+"Yes.  Came down by the mail, and got in here by three this morning, I
+suppose.  I have not seen him yet."
+
+"Well, I like that," said Sir Cheltnam.
+
+"Like what?"
+
+"Your lecturing me about being inattentive to your sister.  Here's the
+blue-jacket again."
+
+"What nonsense!  He has always been like one of us.  We were schoolboys
+together, and he has come here, as Neil and I used to go to the
+vicarage, just as if it was our own home."
+
+"Oh, all right.  I should not have said a word but for the wigging I
+had."
+
+"Good-morning," cried the young lieutenant, walking his horse up to
+where they stood.  "Neil down yet?"
+
+"No," replied Alison.  "Yes, he is.  That's being a doctor.  I believe
+these fellows can do without sleep.  You knew he had come, then?"
+
+"Yes; heard it from the postman.  Ah, Neil, old fellow!"
+
+The young doctor came up looking rather pale, but in no wise like one
+who had been travelling all night, and shook hands warmly with all,
+supplementing the grasp of his hand with a clap on the young sailor's
+shoulder of a very warm and friendly nature.
+
+"You are here early, Burwood," he said.
+
+"Yes.  Mr Elthorne planned one of his rides yesterday; weather's so
+fine.  On the make-your-hay-while-the-sun-shines principle.  He wants me
+to try his new horse for him."
+
+Five minutes later the young men had paired off and were strolling down
+the garden, waiting for the breakfast bell, which was always rung as
+soon as the head of the family came down.
+
+"I'm so glad you've come down, Neil," said Beck eagerly.
+
+"Why?"
+
+"I wanted a chat with you before I sail.  I did think of coming to the
+hospital, but I don't believe I could have said what I wanted there."
+
+Neil fixed his eyes upon his companion.
+
+"What is it?" he said.  "You don't want to borrow money?"
+
+"Oh, hang it, no!"
+
+"What is it, then?"
+
+The young man was silent, and began to break the twigs of the shrubs
+they were passing.
+
+"Don't do that, boy, unless you want to make my father wroth."
+
+"No, of course not," said Beck.  "How absurd!"
+
+"Well, what's the matter?  You're just off to sea, I believe."
+
+"Yes.  Long voyage," said the young man huskily.  "Go on; I'm all
+attention."
+
+Tom Beck did not go on, but stood examining his right hand, and
+frowning.
+
+"What's the matter with your hand?"
+
+"Oh, nothing.  Miss Lydon's horse gave it a nip the other day."
+
+"Humph!  Vicious brute.  Those girls are more like rough riders than
+ladies."
+
+Beck looked at him curiously, while the young doctor flushed under the
+scrutiny, and said hastily:
+
+"Well, boy, what is it?  Isabel?"
+
+"Yes," cried Beck, snatching at the words.  "You see I may be gone for
+two years, and I wanted--and I thought that--"
+
+"Thought what?  Is she very hard to please?"
+
+"Heaven bless her! no," cried the young sailor eagerly.  "There, I can
+speak to you, Neil.  You have always been to me like a big brother.  And
+you know that I care for her."
+
+"Well, I suppose I have thought so, my lad.  What's the matter?"
+
+"That's the matter," said the sailor, giving his head a side nod in the
+direction of Sir Cheltnam, who was crossing the lawn.
+
+"Humph!  Burwood?  You think so?"
+
+"He comes here a good deal, and I can't help being fidgety.  It's the
+going away, you see.  Can you help me?"
+
+"No," said Neil.  "You must help yourself.  Have you spoken to my
+father?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Why not?  `Faint heart never won fair lady,' boy.  Go and speak to him
+like a man."
+
+"All very well for an argumentative, scientific fellow like you.  I
+can't talk; you can."
+
+"Nonsense!"
+
+"I know.  I'm only a quiet, thoughtful sailor, and I tell you frankly,
+old fellow, I felt so miserable one day about your sister that I thought
+the best way out of it all would be to go and drown myself."
+
+"And did you?"
+
+"No, Irishman, I did not; but, 'pon my word, seeing how Burwood is
+encouraged here, I have been really disposed, not to drown myself, but
+my sorrows--in drink."
+
+"And did you?" said Neil, mockingly.
+
+"No," replied Beck dryly.  "It was no good to try; they all know how to
+swim."
+
+"Humph!" ejaculated Neil laughing.  "You're a queer fellow, Beck.  So
+you think you love my sister?"
+
+"Neil, old fellow, I swear--"
+
+"No rhapsodies, please.  Be matter of fact.  I don't believe it's love;
+it's liver.  Better let me prescribe for you."
+
+"Yes, do, old chap.  Tell me what to do."
+
+"Go straight to my father and tell him in a frank, manly way that you
+care for Isabel, and as you are going away for so long, you would like
+to be engaged."
+
+"Neil, old fellow, I feel as if I dare not."
+
+"Nonsense!  You, a sailor, who faces storms?"
+
+"Yes, but your father's a regular typhoon.  I say, though, wouldn't it
+be premature?"
+
+"Of course not."
+
+"You would go--really?"
+
+"If I cared for the lady, certainly," said Neil, laughing at the
+combination of frank, manly daring and shrinking bashfulness before him.
+"It is not capital punishment if you fail."
+
+"No," said Beck thoughtfully, "it isn't.  I've no cause to be afraid,
+have I?"
+
+"Not a bit."
+
+"Then hang it all, I will the first moment I can get your father alone."
+
+"Bravo, brave man!" cried Neil merrily.
+
+"Ah, it's all very well for you to laugh, old fellow.  You don't know
+how bad it is.  But I say, Neil, you wouldn't mind, would you?"
+
+"My dear Tom," said Neil, clapping him warmly on the shoulder, "it seems
+to me something like sacrilege for a man to come here to the old home,
+and to want to rob us of my darling, innocent little sister; but if it
+is to be I do not know a man to whom I would sooner see her given than
+you."
+
+"Thank you," cried the young sailor warmly, and his voice sounding a
+little husky from the emotion he felt.  "Thank you, Neil, old fellow,
+you seem more than ever like a big brother to me now."
+
+"Here is my father," said Neil, quickly.  "Wait your opportunity, and
+get it over."
+
+For at that instant Mr Elthorne appeared at the door, looking the
+_beau-ideal_ of a tall, middle-aged country gentleman, with many years
+of hearty, vigorous life before him.
+
+"Morning, Beck," he cried.  "Ah, Neil, my boy, glad to see you down
+already.  Why, you ought to have had a few hours' more rest."
+
+"I'm accustomed to short and broken nights," said the young man, warmly
+returning the grasp of his father's hand.  "How well you look, sir!"
+
+"Sorry I can't return the compliment, my boy.  You look, white and
+careworn.  Never mind; we'll soon blow the London smoke out of you.  Can
+you manage a ride after breakfast?"
+
+"Yes, and enjoy it."
+
+"That's right.  The Lydon girls are coming over, and we'll mount you on
+the old cob.  By the way, I thought I heard Burwood's voice."
+
+"He is down the garden with Alison," said Neil.
+
+"That's right.  I asked him to come over to breakfast.  He is going to
+try my new purchase for me.  But it's of no use to talk horseflesh to
+you.  Well, my dear?"
+
+This to Isabel, who came running out, looking very innocent and girlish.
+
+"Good-morning, papa," she cried, kissing him.  "I did not know you were
+down.  Good-morning, Mr Beck," she continued shyly, as she let her hand
+rest in his for a moment, and then turned to her brother to kiss him
+affectionately.  "I'm so glad you've come, dear Neil."
+
+"Let's have breakfast, Isabel.  Aunt's not down, I suppose?"
+
+"Oh, yes, papa, and waiting for us."
+
+"Wonderful!" said Mr Elthorne grimly.  "Run down the garden, Isabel,
+and fetch Alison and Sir Cheltnam in to breakfast.  Will you have a cup
+of coffee, Beck?" he continued rather coldly.
+
+"Thank you, sir, I have breakfasted, but--"
+
+"Oh, he can manage another," said Neil laughingly.  "Come along, Tom;"
+and then to himself: "Poor boy!  It will be no, for certain."
+
+Mr Elthorne took no further notice of the young sailor, but laid his
+hand upon his son's shoulder and pointed to a clump of trees at the
+farther end of the park.
+
+"I'm going to have those down, Neil."
+
+"Pity, isn't it, sir?"
+
+"No; if it were I should not take them away.  They shut off the view in
+that direction.  And I'm going to make an opening out there," he
+continued, pointing due south.  "All improvements for your benefit,
+sir."
+
+"Say for Alison's, father.  I shall never settle down here."
+
+"Humph!  No?" said Mr Elthorne, glancing sidewise at his son.  "If you
+go on like this you'll be an old man before I am.  I must have a talk to
+Saxa about you."
+
+Neil looked round sharply.
+
+"Well, what is it?" said Mr Elthorne.
+
+"Nothing, sir, nothing."
+
+"You looked as if I had said something shocking.  Look here, Neil, my
+boy, as you are down at last, suppose you try if you cannot make up a
+little for lost time.  You know what I mean."
+
+"Hush!  Beck will hear you," said the young surgeon quickly.
+
+"Let him stand a little farther off, then," said Mr Elthorne peevishly;
+"but," he continued, in a lower tone of voice, "Saxa feels hurt; I know
+she does.  She tries to carry it off by being boisterous and merry, but
+she is piqued by your coldness."
+
+"You still foster that idea, then, sir?"
+
+"Foster?  That idea?  Of course, sir; and I should like to see you
+display a little more warmth respecting the carrying out of your
+father's wishes.  There, I'm not going to scold now you have come down;
+but just keep my last letter in mind.  A bright, pretty young wife with
+two thousand a year and more to come later on, is not to be sneered at,
+my boy, and you must not quite bury yourself in London over your
+hospital work."
+
+He turned sharply.
+
+"Really, Beck," he cried, "I'm afraid I have behaved very rudely to
+you."
+
+"Very, sir," thought the young man.  "Don't mention it, sir," he said
+aloud.
+
+"Let's see: you are coming with us this morning?"
+
+"I think you asked me to come, Mr Elthorne," said Beck quietly.
+
+"To be sure--of course--I am very forgetful.  Come in--come in.  Oh, by
+the way, would you mind telling your father that I cannot accede to his
+request.  I think I have done quite enough for those people, and they
+must now shift for themselves.  One wants to be charitable, but even
+charity has its limits.  Come, you folks, breakfast, breakfast," he
+cried cheerily, as Sir Cheltnam and Alison came up with Isabel.
+
+"Poor Beck is right," thought Neil, as he saw his father's particularly
+cordial greeting of the baronet.  "It is time to speak.  But too late, I
+fear, after all."
+
+"Ah, Neil, my dear," cried Aunt Anne, kissing him affectionately.  "I'm
+so glad to see you home again.  I hope you slept comfortably.  And how
+is poor Maria?"
+
+"Getting well fast, Aunt, dear."
+
+"That's right.  I'm so glad, for I do want her back very badly."
+
+"Breakfast!--something solid, and less talk," shouted Mr Elthorne
+loudly, and the meal progressed, the head of the house leading the
+conversation, and always to one topic--his new horse.
+
+CHAPTER FOUR.
+
+THE NEW HORSE.
+
+"Well, Isabel," said Neil, in an undertone, as his father was loudly
+debating with Sir Cheltnam some vital question in which bits, bridles,
+and surcingles were mentioned again and again.
+
+"Well, Neil, dear," said the girl archly; "why do you keep looking out
+of the window?  It is not Saxa's time yet."
+
+"Thank goodness!" he said to himself.  Then aloud: "Facetious this
+morning, eh?  Two can play at that, as we used to say when I was at
+home.  Which is it to be--Sir Cheltnam or the sailor boy?"  The arch
+expression passed away from Isabel's countenance on the instant.  She
+gave a frightened glance round the table, as if dreading that the
+brother's words had been overheard, and then, bending down over her cup,
+she whispered:
+
+"Don't, please, Neil, dear.  You hurt me when you talk like that."
+
+"Then you do care for Beck?" he said in a sharp whisper.
+
+"I--I don't know," she faltered.
+
+"Well, you know that he cares for you?"
+
+She gave him a piteous look.
+
+"And you know, too, that he is going to speak to your father this
+morning?"
+
+"O Neil, dear, he must not," whispered the girl, in an agony of fear.
+
+"But he must if he means to win you.  I advised him to do so."
+
+Isabel caught hold of the cloth below the level of the table and glanced
+wildly at Beck, but he could not interpret the meaning of the look, and
+replied to it with one full of hope.
+
+The little party rose from the table soon after and fate favoured the
+sailor by giving him the opportunity he sought--Mr Elthorne crossing
+the hall to the library, while the others went out on to the lawn.
+
+"Eh!  Want to speak to me, Beck?" said Mr Elthorne.  "Come in here."
+
+He closed the door after the young officer, and pointed to a chair.
+
+"Sit down, my lad," he said pleasantly.  "Now I'll be bound to say I can
+guess what you are about to say."
+
+"You can, sir?" said Beck eagerly.
+
+"I think so," said Mr Elthorne, with rather a set smile on his lips.
+"You were going to tell me that you have to start for the East in a very
+few days--am I right so far?"
+
+"Yes, sir, quite."
+
+"And that, as I have known you from a boy, you felt that without
+hesitation you might speak to me and not trouble your father.  Still
+right?"
+
+"Yes, sir--I think so."
+
+"I felt it at once," said Mr Elthorne nodding.  "Well, yes, my lad, I
+will try and oblige you.  How much do you want?"
+
+"Want?  How much?" cried the young man, starting up with his face
+flushing.  "Did you think I wanted to borrow money, sir?"
+
+"Yes, my lad, of course."
+
+"Oh, no, sir," he cried; and, excited now by his position, he somewhat
+blunderingly, but with manly frankness, told how long he had loved
+Isabel, and asked for a sanction to his engagement.
+
+Mr Elthorne heard him in silence to the end, and then said briefly:
+"Impossible."
+
+"Impossible, sir?"
+
+"Quite, my lad.  It is all a boy and a girl piece of nonsense.  Yes; you
+two have known each other from children, been playfellows and the like,
+but I could never sanction my child's marriage to one who leads such a
+life as yours."
+
+"But, Mr Elthorne--"
+
+"Hear me out, my lad.  I tell you frankly, I like you and always did as
+a boy and the friend of my sons, but as my prospective son-in-law, once
+for all, it is impossible."
+
+"Mr Elthorne!" cried the young man appealingly.
+
+"No, my lad, no; so give up all thought of it at once.  Isabel will
+leave home one of these days, but not with you.  You are not the man.
+Do you ride with us this morning?"
+
+Beck did not answer for the moment, for he was half stunned, but an
+angry flush came into his cheeks just then, for Sir Cheltnam's voice was
+heard through the open window.  There was the cause of his rejection, he
+felt sure, and, full of resentment and the feeling that Mr Elthorne had
+not treated him well, he replied sharply:
+
+"Yes, sir, I shall go with the party this morning, and if I tell you
+that I cannot give up my hopes--"
+
+"Ah, well," said Mr Elthorne sharply, "you will think differently, I
+dare say, after the first smart of the disappointment has worn off."
+
+"Ready, father?" came from the window.
+
+"Yes.  Have they got the horse round?"
+
+"All right.  Burwood is going to try him over a fence or two before we
+start."
+
+"I'll come," said Mr Elthorne.  "You like horses, Beck; come and see
+the leaping."
+
+Beck followed mechanically, cut to the heart by the half-contemptuous,
+cold-blooded way in which his aspirations were treated, and in a few
+minutes he stood with the others looking at the noble looking animal
+held by a groom, while Sir Cheltnam examined him after the fashion of a
+dealer, and then mounted.
+
+"I'll trot him across the park and take the hedge, and the fence as I
+come back.  Thick in his breathing, you think?"
+
+"Yes, I thought so," said Mr Elthorne.
+
+"Well, we shall soon know, and if he is, I'd make them take him back."
+
+Sir Cheltnam mounted and went off at a sharp trot for some hundred
+yards, curved round full into sight, and, increasing his pace, came
+toward them at a good swinging gallop, rose at a hedge, cleared it well,
+and then pressed the horse on toward a stiffish fence, which it also
+cleared capitally, and cantered back to the waiting party, where Sir
+Cheltnam pulled up and leaped down.
+
+"I can detect nothing," he said.
+
+"You did not take him far enough to prove it," said Mr Elthorne
+shortly.  "I'll canter him down to the far hedge and back."
+
+As he approached the horse, there was the trampling of other hoofs, the
+groom and helper bringing round the horses ordered for the morning ride,
+while just seen in the distance over the hedge which ran along by the
+road were the heads of the sisters coming over to join in the excursion.
+
+The next minute Mr Elthorne was in the saddle, and the horse sprang
+forward at a touch.
+
+"Your father rides well, Elthorne," said Sir Cheltnam.  "Capital seat
+for so heavy a man."
+
+"Hasn't followed hounds thirty years for nothing," replied Alison.  "I
+say," he shouted; "better take that lower down."
+
+For, reversing the baronet's process, Mr Elthorne directed his course
+straight for the fence, and was apparently about to take it at rather an
+awkward spot.
+
+"He can't hear you, man," said Sir Cheltnam; "but he knows what he is
+about.  Ah, here is your sister.  I say, keep that Beck along with you
+this morning: he monopolised her entirely the other day."  Alison did
+not heed his words, but started forward with a cry, just as Neil and
+Beck also made a rush for the spot.
+
+Only a few minutes before, The Don had risen and cleared the fence with
+the greatest ease.  This time, possibly from some bad management on the
+part of his rider, he rushed at it so clumsily that horse and man came
+down together with a crash; and as Neil, who was nearest, dashed
+forward, he could see that his father was beneath the horse, which was
+plunging violently in its attempts to rise, and fell back twice,
+crushing his rider, before he could regain his feet.
+
+CHAPTER FIVE.
+
+NEED OF A SURGEON.
+
+As Neil Elthorne reached the spot where his father had fallen, the horse
+dashed off at full gallop across the park, followed by one of the
+grooms, who saw in it something of far greater consequence than his
+master, who lay perfectly motionless upon the grass.
+
+"Any bones broken?" cried Sir Cheltnam.  "Only a bit of a spill.  Here,
+someone go for a doctor."
+
+No one heeded his words; but Alison and Beck watched Neil curiously as
+he was down on one knee making a hasty examination of the injured man.
+
+"Oh, papa, papa!" cried Isabel.  "Neil, Neil, is he dead?"
+
+"Hush, my dear, be quiet."
+
+"Hadn't you better send for a doctor?" cried Sir Cheltnam.  "Nasty thing
+for a horse to roll across a man."
+
+"Be good enough to be silent, sir," said Neil sharply.  "Alison, make
+two of the men lift one of the light iron gates off its hinges.  Isabel,
+my child, be a woman.  Run to the house and make them bring down a
+mattress to lay upon the gate, and tell Aunt Anne to bring the brandy,
+some water, and a glass."
+
+"But, Neil, dear--"
+
+"Don't stop to question.  I know nothing yet."
+
+"But hadn't you better send a groom at once for a doctor?"
+
+"Confound it all, sir!" cried Beck in a low voice, "can't you see that
+Mr Elthorne is in a skillful surgeon's hands?"
+
+Sir Cheltnam gave him an angry look, and turned his back, while Beck, in
+the matter of fact, cool fashion of a sailor in a time of emergency,
+bent down over Neil.
+
+"Can I help you?" he said quietly.
+
+"Eh?  Thanks, no.  I can do nothing till I get him to bed.  Poor old
+dad!" he muttered to himself.  "I little thought I was coming for this."
+
+He had placed the injured man's head in an easy position, and in his
+cursory examination found that no limb was broken or joint dislocated;
+but Elthorne was perfectly insensible, and the young surgeon dreaded the
+crushing in of ribs and some internal injury.
+
+Meantime the strong, hale, imperious man of a few minutes earlier lay
+there, breathing painfully, while those about him were too much occupied
+to notice the soft, dull sound of horse's hoofs approaching fast.
+
+Neil started as a shadow was thrown across him, and a sharp, metallic
+voice cried:
+
+"Hallo!  What's the matter?  Anyone hurt?"
+
+"Yes; a bad fall," said Neil coldly, as his eyes met those of the
+speaker, the elder of the two Lydons.
+
+"Well, I couldn't help it," said the girl rather resentfully.  "No fault
+of mine."
+
+"Poor old guardy!" cried her sister.  "Don't look like a ride to-day."
+
+"Not much," said Saxa.  "Did the horse throw him?"
+
+"Fell with him," said Sir Cheltnam.
+
+"Looked it," cried Saxa.  "I told Dan here that I didn't like the looks
+of the mount, but it was no use to tell the old man.  He always would
+have his own way, eh, Dan?"
+
+"Always," assented her sister.
+
+"Burwood," cried Neil impatiently, "will you give me your help?"
+
+"Certainly.  What shall I do?"
+
+"Take these ladies away somewhere; their talking disturbs the patient."
+
+"Well, I'm sure!" cried Saxa with a laugh full of annoyance.  "But we
+will not trouble Sir Cheltnam; we know our way back."
+
+"Here's someone else coming who will be more civil, perhaps," said Dana
+to herself, as Isabel, followed by half the household, came hurrying
+back.
+
+Alison was returning too, with some of the stablemen and gardeners
+bearing a light iron gate and the mattress, with the result that the
+sufferer was borne carefully back to the house.
+
+"I say, Elthorne, though," said Sir Cheltnam, as they followed behind;
+"no offence to your brother, who is, I dare say, clever enough,--I
+forgot that he was a doctor,--hadn't you better send to the town for the
+best man they've got?  I'm afraid your old gov'nor has come off badly."
+
+"Neil will know," replied Alison.  "He will do what is right."
+
+"Oh, very well; I only suggested; but I say, hadn't you better make a
+bit of a clearance?  So many people about must be bad for the patient."
+
+Alison looked at him curiously, but he said nothing, though the idea did
+occur to him that it would be satisfactory if his friend were to ride
+off in company with the Misses Lydon.
+
+"How is he, Neil?  What do you think of him?" said Alison, after quietly
+watching his brother for some time.
+
+"Bad," said Neil laconically.  "I can say nothing yet for certain."
+
+"Will he die?"
+
+"Please God, no; but the symptoms are serious."
+
+"Bones broken?"
+
+"No; injury to the spine, I fear.  I must have help and further advice."
+
+"I'll send on to the town at once for Morrison."
+
+"No," said Neil quietly.  "This is not a case for a general
+practitioner.  Get me a telegraph form, and have the message sent on at
+once."
+
+"Yes," said Alison eagerly; "but tell me what you are going to do."
+
+"Send for Sir Denton Hayle."
+
+"Will he come?"
+
+"If I ask him--yes."
+
+The message was written and sent off.  The Lydons, after waiting till
+after noon, had shaken hands with the brothers, and said they were very
+sorry, and then accepted Sir Cheltnam's escort home.
+
+Neil, who had left his father's side for a few minutes to say good-bye,
+heaved a sigh and turned to go back.
+
+"They don't seem very much broken-hearted about the poor old dad, Neil,"
+said Alison.
+
+"No," cried his brother, flashing out angrily.  "I wonder sometimes
+whether--no, no, we can't discuss that now, with him lying like that,"
+he added hastily, and he went back into the house to find that Beck
+still lingered.
+
+Neil looked at him reproachfully and the young sailor caught his arm.
+
+"I have not gone," he said.  "I'm staying in case I can be of any use."
+
+"Thanks," said Neil shortly.  Then a thought struck him, and he turned
+back.  "Did you speak to my father?" he said.
+
+Beck nodded.
+
+"What did he say?"
+
+"That it was impossible."
+
+Neil went hastily toward the room where his father had been carried, and
+found his sister listening by the door.
+
+"You here, Isabel?" he said.
+
+"Yes, dear," she whispered in broken tones.  "Let me go in and see poor
+papa now."
+
+"No, my child, not yet."
+
+"But, Neil, I am not a child now.  You have let Aunt Anne be with him."
+
+"Well, she is older, and experienced, dear.  Pray be patient.  You will
+be helping me then."
+
+"Yes, Neil," she said with a sigh, and she reached up and kissed him.
+
+"That is my darling sister," he said tenderly.  "But, Neil, dear, one
+word--pray tell me the truth.  Will papa get better?"
+
+"Heaven only knows, dear," he said solemnly.  "He is very badly hurt."
+
+He passed through the door, and closed it after him almost without a
+sound, and then stopped to gaze on the scene before him, feeling a glow
+of warmth in his breast toward his Aunt, who, in their freedom from
+anxiety, had always seemed to him a weak, self-indulgent woman.  But
+self was evidently forgotten now as she knelt beside her brother's
+couch, holding one of his hands against her breast, and watching the
+pale, slightly drawn face as if her life depended upon her noting the
+slightest change.
+
+"Has he moved, Aunt?" said Neil softly.  She started violently.
+
+"O Neil, dear!" she exclaimed, "I did not hear you.  No, no, no," she
+cried, with a burst of sobbing, "he's dying!  My poor brother!  What
+shall I do?"
+
+"Be patient and helpful, Aunt, dear.  We must not think of our now
+sufferings now."
+
+"Yes, my dear, and I will, indeed I will.  But, Neil, my love," she
+whispered, as she caught his hand and held it in both hers; "don't think
+me unkind.  I know what a good, clever boy you are, but don't you think
+you ought to send for a real doctor?"
+
+Neil smiled sadly as he bent down and kissed the agitated woman, and
+thought of his diplomas, and the trust and faith of the eminent surgeon
+who had chosen him for assistant in the ward of the great London
+hospital.
+
+"Yes, Aunt, dear," he said quietly.  "You are quite right.  I have sent
+for Sir Denton."
+
+"Oh, that's very good of you, my dear.  You are so young; and I was
+afraid, dear, that you would be too proud to accept any help, and--"
+
+"Hist!" said Neil quickly; and he stepped to his father's side, for he
+had seen a quick, trembling motion about the eyes, and the injured man
+began to mutter.
+
+"Quite out of the question, my lad--I have made other arrangements for
+my child."
+
+He uttered a heavy sigh.
+
+"Ride any horse--jumps well--you did not--"
+
+His eyes open and staring now, and fixed on his son.
+
+"Neil!" he said aloud, "what's the matter?  Here, give me your hand."
+
+He tried to rise, and a spasm contracted his face as Neil watched him
+anxiously and saw a confirmation of his fears.
+
+"I don't understand."
+
+"Don't try to move, father.  You are a little hurt," said Neil gravely.
+"Are you in much pain?"
+
+"Pain?  No," said his father irritably.  "Why don't you both speak?
+What does it all mean?"
+
+"Your horse fell, sir," said Neil gently.  "Lie quite still."
+
+"My horse fell?  What horse fell?  How long have I been here?"
+
+"My dear father, you must try and be calm, please."
+
+"But I don't understand," he cried angrily.  "You said my horse fell.  I
+can't remember."
+
+"But you will soon.  Try and go to sleep."
+
+"Don't be absurd, boy.  Here, help me to get--"
+
+He did not finish his sentence but tried to raise himself and then lay
+perfectly still, with his jaw dropped, and a look of horror in his eyes.
+
+"Neil--my boy," he said piteously, "I can't move.  This sudden
+weakness--I--yes--I remember now.  The Don fell with me.  Quick--tell
+me--am I much hurt?"
+
+"I hope not, sir.  It was a bad fall, but there are no bones broken."
+
+"But--"
+
+He stopped, and looked wildly at his son.
+
+"Father, you must try and be calm," said Neil firmly.
+
+"Ralph, dearest--pray--pray--be calm," said Aunt Anne.
+
+"Silence, woman!" he cried harshly; and the great drops of perspiration
+began to gather on his brow.  "Yes," he continued hoarsely, "I begin to
+remember clearly now.  The brute fell and rolled over me.  Here, Neil,
+you are a surgeon--tell me--not seriously hurt?"
+
+"You are hurt, father, and it is absolutely necessary that you should be
+quite calm."
+
+"Calm, sir!  How can I be calm?  Do you take me for a child?  Send for a
+proper doctor at once--a man who can understand, and who will tell me
+the truth."
+
+"I am telling you the truth, father.  I repeat--it is absolutely
+necessary that you should lie still and try to be calm."
+
+"But--"
+
+He uttered that word angrily, and clutched at the side of the couch to
+try again and raise himself, but his arm fell nervelessly by his side,
+and he gave his son a piteous look.
+
+"My back," he groaned.  "No feeling; Neil, my boy, you know and you will
+not speak.  Don't, don't, tell me I am to be a cripple."
+
+"My dear father," cried Neil huskily, as he grasped his hand, "I dare
+not tell you that, for I am not sure.  I have sent up for Sir Denton,
+and he will, I know, come by the earliest possible train.  I hope that
+my fears are wrong."
+
+"Then they are right," said the sufferer with a groan.  "I know now.
+Great Heavens!"
+
+He closed his eyes, and lay perfectly still, but the dew upon his
+contracted face told plainly enough of the mental agony he suffered.
+
+Aunt Anne drew back, and signed to Neil to come to her side.
+
+"Speak to him," she whispered.  "Try and say something to comfort him,
+dear."
+
+"It would be folly," replied Neil sadly, "and only increase his
+irritation."
+
+"Oh, but, my dear!" she whispered.
+
+"Aunt, it was what I feared, and he has grasped the truth."
+
+"Neil!"
+
+"Wait till Sir Denton comes, and let him decide."
+
+He went back to the side of the couch, and sat down to watch and wait,
+ready to try and alleviate pain, and wipe the drops of agony from the
+sufferer's brow from time to time.
+
+And so an hour passed without the patient once unclosing his eyes, but
+it was plain that he did not sleep; a sharp twitch across the face now
+and again eliciting a faint groan.
+
+Aunt Anne had been out twice to speak to Isabel, who was weeping
+silently in the adjoining room.
+
+And so the dreary day crept on with a strange silence pervading the
+place where all, as a rule, was bustle and activity.  Alison softly
+paced the hall hour after hour, waiting patiently for news of which Aunt
+Anne was the bearer.
+
+But she had little to communicate, and night was coming on fast when the
+sound of carriage wheels was heard, and a fly from the station drove up
+to the door, out of which stepped the famous London surgeon, who had
+arrived quite a couple of hours sooner than had been expected.
+
+Neil hurried out, leaving Aunt Anne to take his place while he welcomed
+the visitor.
+
+"Thank you," he said simply, as he grasped the old man's hand.
+
+"I came down at once.  How is he?"
+
+Neil shook this head, and led the way at once into the room where Mr
+Elthorne lay with his eyes tightly closed; but he opened them at once as
+Sir Denton approached, showing that he had been keenly conscious of
+every sound.
+
+Aunt Anne rose from his side, bent down again to kiss him, and then
+hurried out of the room to hide her tears, leaving the great surgeon to
+decide upon what her brother's future was to be.
+
+Isabel and Alison were outside, and the three waited together anxiously
+for the great man's verdict, and all oppressed by the strange sensation
+produced by the sudden shock which had fallen upon the family.
+Everything seemed strange, and the very silence to be charged with
+portents.
+
+Alison strode up and down the room, while his sister crouched by Aunt
+Anne's side, holding her hands tightly, and starting at every sharp turn
+her brother made.
+
+It seemed an age before they heard the opening of a door and steps in
+the hall; and as Isabel started up, listening excitedly, Neil appeared,
+looking white and anxious.
+
+"Go to my father, Aunt," he said, and then drew back to lead Sir Denton
+into a little room much affected by the young man, half study, half
+museum, where the surgeon sank into a chair and leaned back gazing at
+the worn, troubled face before him, as if waiting for his companion to
+speak.
+
+"Well, sir?" he said at last, for Sir Denton remained silent.
+
+"Well, Elthorne," said Sir Denton gravely.
+
+"Don't trifle with me.  I am in agony."
+
+"Naturally, my dear fellow, and I am not trifling with you.  I only
+shrank from giving you pain."
+
+"Then you think--" began Neil.
+
+"No; I am sure, Elthorne.  My dear boy, you have not worked with me for
+years without being able to come to a decision at once upon such a case
+as this.  I can quite understand your feelings.  In your horror and
+despair you mistrusted yourself, or tried to mistrust yourself, hoping,
+I presume, that you might be wrong, and sent at once for me.  Is it not
+so?"
+
+Neil bowed his head; and then quickly, as drowning men catch at straws,
+he said:
+
+"But, Sir Denton, do you feel absolutely certain?"
+
+"My dear Elthorne, would to Heaven I could say that there is a doubt.
+There is none.  You know there is none."
+
+Neil uttered a low groan.
+
+"It comes hard from one who feels toward you as I do, my dear brother,"
+said the old man gently; "but we doctors and surgeons can have no
+concealment from each other.  Your examination must have shown you that
+the spine is hopelessly injured."
+
+"Yes, yes," groaned Neil; "but I clung to the hope that I might be
+wrong.  Then you can give me no hope?"
+
+"Yes, I can do that.  With careful nursing you may save his life, and he
+may have many years before him.  There will be little physical
+suffering, and fortunately for him, being a wealthy man, he can palliate
+much of this by attendants and the many contrivances our mechanicians
+have invented for the benefit of the injured.  It is a terrible case,
+but nothing compared to what it would be if some poor breadwinner had
+suddenly been stricken down--a case such as we have seen hundreds of
+times.  Your father has everything to soften the hardship, and, above
+all, the love of his children."
+
+"Then you feel that nothing more can be done?"
+
+"Frankly, nothing.  It is the greatest kindness to tell you so,
+Elthorne.  As you well know, the treatment is of the simplest.  Time,
+and a thoroughly good, trustworthy nurse.  There is the prescription
+that forty years of earnest study have taught me to offer you."
+
+"Yes," said Neil, after a pause, "I felt all this--thanks to your
+teachings.  Poor old father!" he continued as if to himself; "so full of
+vitality, so determined and energetic, so full of plans, and in an
+instant all at an end."
+
+"Oh, no," said Sir Denton.  "You must look at the brighter side of the
+accident, my dear fellow.  He will--I am speaking plainly--he will be
+utterly paralysed in his lower limbs, but in all probability the mental
+faculties will be sharpened, and from what I have seen of your father I
+should say he will be more energetic and active than ever."
+
+"Thank you," said Neil warmly; "thank you--"
+
+"Now go and break the bad news to your people at once, and all of you
+face the worst.  You are spared a great deal.  You know as well as I do
+that his accident might have meant a few hours' hopeless struggle
+against death and then the end."
+
+"Yes, yes," said Neil.  "You are right, and I will try--we will all
+try--to face the trouble as we should.  But you will stay the night and
+see him in the morning."
+
+"No, I can do no good.  You will act in everything exactly as I should,
+and there are others waiting in agony for my return."
+
+"But--"
+
+"You know in your heart what I say is just, my dear Elthorne.  Come,
+pupil, your old master trusts you," said the surgeon, taking his hand.
+"Forget for the time being that the patient is a relative; sink
+everything in the scientific aspects of the case; do your duty, and
+trust yourself.  Now, God bless you, and good-bye."
+
+He grasped the young surgeon's hands warmly and turned to go, but
+stopped short.
+
+"I shall get someone to come and lend me a hand, so that you can stay
+down here as long as is necessary, but you will be able to come up for a
+day or two at the end of a week.  Of course the first thing is to send
+you down an efficient nurse.  Everything will depend upon her, as you
+know."
+
+"Yes," said Neil huskily, and he walked out into the hall.
+
+"I will not ask to see your sister or your aunt, Elthorne.  My kindest
+regards, and I hope to renew my friendship with them at some happier
+time."
+
+He stepped into the waiting fly and looked at his watch.
+
+"Tell him to drive fast, and I shall just catch the last up-train.
+Good-bye."
+
+The wheels grated on the gravel drive, and the sounds were dying away as
+Neil turned to find that the drawing-room door had opened.
+
+Isabel ran to him and threw her arms about his neck, trying vainly to
+speak, as he held her to his breast, while her eyes looked imploringly
+into his.
+
+"What does he say, Neil?" said Alison huskily.  "Tell us the worst."
+
+"The worst," replied Neil gloomily.
+
+"Then he will die?" cried Alison excitedly.
+
+"No, no."
+
+"But he has gone so soon.  Don't keep it back, man.  He said he could do
+nothing?"
+
+"He said that with care our father will live, but--"
+
+He stopped short for a few moments and a sigh that was almost a groan
+escaped him.
+
+"The poor old dad.  Al," he said softly, "I am afraid he will be a
+hopeless cripple if the knowledge of his state does not kill him right
+off."
+
+"What's that?  What's the matter?" cried Alison sharply, as the door
+opened and the butler appeared.  "We are engaged."
+
+"Beg pardon, sir," said the man.  "Mrs Barnett, sir, rang the bell.
+Master wants Mr Neil directly."
+
+"O Neil, he is worse," sobbed Isabel; and, as her brother hurried out of
+the room and across the hall, she followed, and they all entered
+together, just as Aunt Anne was coming to summon them, her ruddy face
+looking blanched and strange in places, while her eyes were wide open
+and she seemed to have been scared.
+
+"Pray come to him, my dear," she whispered.  "He frightens me."
+
+"What is that?" said Mr Elthorne sharply.  "What is the meaning of that
+whispering?  Am I to lie here without any attention because I have had a
+bit of a fall?  Here, Neil, quick.  It is disgraceful.  Anne--Isabel--
+you can go.  I want to talk to Neil."  Isabel crept deprecatingly to the
+speaker's side and bent down to kiss him.
+
+He responded to her kiss, and then seemed annoyed with himself, as if he
+considered his conduct weak.
+
+"There, there," he cried.  "Don't hang about me, my dear.  You make me
+hot.  There is nothing much the matter.  Go and nurse up your aunt, and
+try to teach her to be sensible."
+
+"Oh, papa, dear!"
+
+"Now, don't you begin to be absurd too.  I'm hurt and in pain.  Let me
+ask you one question--Is it likely to do me good to have a foolish woman
+sitting close to me soaking her pocket handkerchief?"
+
+"Ralph, dear, I was only sympathetic," cried Aunt Anne.
+
+"I don't want sympathy," cried Mr Elthorne.  "I want help.  I want you
+to go now.  Shut the door after them, Alison.  You can stop.  Now," he
+continued angrily, as soon as they were alone, and he fixed his eyes
+fiercely upon his elder son's, "you chose to be a doctor, sir, and I
+gave way unwillingly.  I studied no expense, and you have gone on
+studying up your profession.  But, once for all, if I am to take any of
+your assistance, I warn you that I will have none of the tricks of your
+trade played upon me."
+
+"My dear father, pray be calm," said Neil anxiously.
+
+"Did you hear what I said, sir?  Be calm!  Am I not calm?  There you are
+bringing out all your medical stock in trade--medical cant to bear."
+
+Neil looked at him anxiously, and saw that he was wild in his manner,
+and that there was a curiously excited glare in his eyes which troubled
+him a good deal, and affected his words as he replied.
+
+"Now," cried his father, "tell me at once, what did Sir Denton say?"
+
+"That you must be kept perfectly quiet, sir, and be troubled by nothing
+exciting."
+
+"Why?" said Mr Elthorne sharply.  "Did he say that my case was
+hopeless, and that I must die?"
+
+"No; decidedly not.  Nothing of the kind, sir.  He told me that you only
+needed proper nursing to recover."
+
+"To recover my health?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"And strength?" said Mr Elthorne, gazing at him searchingly.
+
+Neil was silent.
+
+"Why don't you speak, boy?" said the old man sternly.  "No; you need not
+speak.  A man is a physician or a fool at forty.  I am long past forty,
+and not quite a fool, boys, as you both know.  He told you that I should
+be a hopeless cripple."
+
+"He told me, I repeat, that you must be kept perfectly quiet, father,
+and I must insist upon your now trying to help me by following out his
+wishes."
+
+"A cripple--a helpless cripple," said the injured man, without paying
+the slightest heed to his son's words, but speaking as if to someone he
+could see across the room.  "I did not want telling that.  A man knows.
+But what does it mean?  Wreck?  Utter helplessness?  Being led about by
+the hand?  No, no, no; not so bad as that.  The brain is right.  I am
+strong there.  You boys are not going to usurp everything yet.  Do you
+hear?  I say you boys are--you boys--I say--the doctor--quick--the
+doctor--ah!"
+
+His eyes glared wildly as the fit of excitement rapidly increased, till
+he almost raved like one in a fit of delirium, and every attempt to calm
+him by word or action on the part of his son only seemed to intensify
+his excitement, till a sudden spasm made his face twitch, and his head
+fell back with the angry light dying out of his eyes.
+
+"Quick!" whispered Neil.  "Run up to my room and bring down the little
+case on the drawers."
+
+He raised his father's head as he spoke, and, after glancing at him in a
+frightened manner, Alison hurried out of the room.
+
+An hour later Ralph Elthorne was lying perfectly insensible, with his
+son watching by his bedside.  It was no new, thing to him this tending
+of a patient in a serious strait consequent upon an accident, but their
+relative positions robbed him of his customary _sang-froid_, and again
+and again he asked himself whether he had not done wrong in accepting so
+onerous a task, and whether Sir Denton had not placed too much
+confidence in his knowledge of the treatment such a case demanded.  When
+such thoughts mastered him he was ready over and over again to send a
+fresh message to the great surgeon, and it was only by a strong effort
+that he mastered himself and maintained his calmness.  For he knew in an
+ordinary way a doubt of his capacity would never enter his head; all he
+had to do, he told himself, was to strive as he would have striven for
+another.
+
+"But he is my father," he muttered, "and it is so hard to feel
+confidence when one knows that the patient mistrusts every word and
+act."
+
+CHAPTER SIX.
+
+WATCHING THE SUFFERER.
+
+"What are you going to do about sitting up?" said Alison in a whisper
+about eleven o'clock that night.  "He must not be left."
+
+"Certainly not," said Neil, after a glance at the bed where his father
+lay sleeping uneasily.  "I am going to sit with him."
+
+"That will not do," said Alison quietly.  "_You_ are the doctor, and
+must be rested and ready when wanted.  You had better go to bed and I'll
+sit up.  Aunt Anne wants to, and so does Isabel, but the old lady is
+hysterical and fit for nothing, and Isabel is too young."
+
+"Of course," said Neil quietly.  "But I have settled all that.  I shall
+sit up, and if there is any need I can call you directly."
+
+Alison looked as if he were going to oppose the plan, but he said
+nothing for the moment, only sat watching his brother and occasionally
+turning to the bed as the injured man made an uneasy movement.
+
+They were interrupted by a tap at the door, to which Alison replied,
+coming back directly to whisper in his brother's ear.
+
+"You had better go and talk to the old lady yourself," he said.  "She
+has come prepared to sit up."  Neil went hastily to the door and passed
+out on the landing, where his aunt was standing, dressed for the
+occasion, and armed with night lights and other necessary appliances
+used in an invalid's chamber.
+
+"No, Aunt, dear," said Neil quickly.  "Not necessary.  I am going to sit
+up."
+
+"My dear boy, your brother said something of this kind to me," said the
+lady querulously; "but pray don't you be obstinate.  I really must sit
+up with your father.  It is my duty, and I will."
+
+"It is your duty, Aunt, to obey the surgeon in attendance upon the
+patient," said Neil firmly, but he winced a little at his aunt's next
+words.
+
+"So I would, my dear, if we had one here; but do you really think, Neil,
+that you are able to deal with such a terrible case?  Hadn't you better
+have in the Moreby doctor, and hear what he says?"
+
+"We have had Sir Denton Hayle to-day, and I have his instructions.  Is
+not that enough?"
+
+"No, my dear, really I don't think it is.  You see it isn't as if you
+were a much older man and more experienced, and had been a surgeon ever
+so long."
+
+"There is no need for you to sit up, Aunt," said Neil quietly.  "I can
+quite understand your anxiety, but, believe me, I am doing my best."
+
+"Oh, dear," sighed Aunt Anne.  "You boys areas obstinate and as
+determined as your poor father.  Well, there, I cannot help myself," she
+continued in a tone full of remonstrance.  "No one can blame me, and I
+am sure that I have done my duty."
+
+"Yes, Aunt, dear, quite," said Neil soothingly.  "Go and get a good
+night's rest.  I don't think there will be any need, but if it is
+necessary I will have you called."
+
+"Encouraging!" he said to himself as he returned to the sick room,
+thinking that after all it was very natural on his aunt's part, for it
+must seem to her only a short time since he was a boy at home, when,
+upon the death of his mother, she had come to keep house.
+
+Alison rose from a chair near the bed as he closed the door, and signed
+to him to come to the other end of the room.
+
+"I say," he whispered, "I don't like the governor's breathing.  Just you
+go and listen.  Its catchy like and strange."
+
+Neil crossed to the bed and bent down over the sleeping man, felt his
+pulse, and came back.
+
+"Quite natural," he said, "for a man in his condition.  I detect nothing
+strange."
+
+Alison looked at him curiously, turned away, and walked softly up and
+down the shaded room, to stop at last by his brother.
+
+"I don't want to upset you," he said, "but I feel obliged to speak."
+
+"Go on," said Neil, "but I know what you are going to say."
+
+"Impossible!" said Alison, staring.
+
+"By no means.  You are uneasy, and think I am not capable of caring for
+my father."
+
+"Well, I can't help it, old fellow," said Alison.  "I was thinking
+something of the kind.  You see a regular old country doctor--"
+
+"Has not half the experience of a young man in a large hospital," said
+Neil, interrupting him and speaking now in a quite confident manner.
+"We have had many such cases as this, and I have helped to treat them."
+
+"Yes, but--"
+
+"Pray try and have a little confidence in me, old fellow.  I am sure you
+do not mean it, but you are making my task much harder."
+
+"Oh, I don't want to do that, but you see I can't help looking at you as
+my brother."
+
+"Never cease to, pray.  Now go and lie down for a few hours.  Yes," he
+continued, as Alison hesitated, "I wish it.  I desire it.  I will call
+you about four."
+
+"Oh, very well, if I must, I must," said Alison rather sulkily.  Then,
+as if ashamed of the tone he had taken, "All right.  Be sure and call me
+then."  He crossed to the bed again, stood looking down at the sleeping
+face, and returned.
+
+"I say," he whispered, "what a change it seems!  Only this morning
+talking to us as he did, and now helpless like that."
+
+"Yes; it is terrible how prostrate an accident renders a man."
+
+"Did--did he say anything to you about--about marriage?"
+
+Neil started and looked sharply at his brother, who had faltered as he
+spoke.
+
+"Yes, but there is no occasion to discuss that now."
+
+"No, I suppose not, but he was wonderfully set upon our being regularly
+engaged to those two girls.  Don't seem natural for that sort of thing
+to be settled for you downright without your being consulted.  It's just
+as if you were a royal personage."
+
+"My dear Alison, is this a time for such a subject to be discussed?
+Pray go now."
+
+"Oh, very well--till four o'clock, then."
+
+The young man left the room, and Neil sat down to think, after a closer
+examination of his father's state.  For Alison's words had started a
+current of thought which soon startled him by its intensity, as it
+raised up the calm, pale face of one who had constantly been at his side
+in cases of emergency--one who was always tenderly sensitive and ready
+to suffer with those who suffered, whose voice had a sweet, sympathetic
+ring as she spoke words of encouragement or consolation to the
+agony-wrung patient, but who could be firm as a rock at times, when a
+sufferer's life depended upon the strength of mind and nerve of the
+attendant.
+
+Always that face, looking with calm, deep, thoughtful eyes into his, but
+with no heightening of colour, no tremor in the sensitive nerves of the
+smooth, high temples; and as he sat there thinking, she seemed to him
+one whom no words of man, however earnest and impassioned, could stir,
+certainly not such words as he could speak.
+
+He started from his reverie, which had in spirit taken him back to the
+hospital where the tall, graceful figure glided silently from bed to
+bed, and the colour mounted quickly to his cheeks as a faint tapping
+came at the door, and upon his opening it he started again, for there
+was a figure, tall and slight, indistinctly seen in the darkness, as if
+his thoughts had evoked the presence of her upon whom his mind had
+dwelt.
+
+"It is only I, Neil, dear," whispered a pleasant, silvery voice.
+
+"Isabel?  I thought you were in bed."
+
+"How could you, Neil, dear!" she said reproachfully.  "I could not go to
+bed and sleep knowing you were sitting up with poor papa.  How is he
+now, dear?"
+
+"Just the same, and must be for some time."  Isabel sighed.
+
+"Neil, dear," she whispered, "I've got a spirit-lamp and kettle in the
+next room, and as soon as you like I'll make you some tea."
+
+"Thank you, my dear.  Leave it ready and I'll make some myself."
+
+"No, no, Neil, dear," she said, clinging to him.  "Don't send me away.
+I could not sleep to-night."
+
+"But you must, dear.  I want you to be rested and strong, so as to come
+and sit with him to-morrow while I have some sleep."
+
+"Yes, dear, of course," she whispered, as she crept closer within the
+protecting arm round her, and laid her head upon her brother's shoulder.
+
+"Come, come," Neil whispered, as he stroked her soft hair, "you must not
+fret and give way.  Troubles come into every family, and we must learn
+to bear them with fortitude."
+
+"Yes, Neil, dear, and I am trying hard to bear this bravely."
+
+She nestled to him more closely, and as he smoothed her hair again and
+stroked her cheek, gazing down the while at its soft outline, he could
+not help thinking how attractive in appearance she had grown.  "There,"
+he said at last.  "Now you must go."
+
+"Yes, dear, directly.  But--Neil--"
+
+"What is it?"
+
+"May I talk to you?"
+
+"Of course."
+
+"But as I used when you were at home and I told you all my secrets?"
+
+"I hope you will, Bel.  Why shouldn't you trust your big brother?"
+
+"Yes; why not?" she said eagerly.  "And you will not think me a silly
+girl nor forward?"
+
+"I hope not."
+
+"Nor that I should not have spoken to you at such a time?"
+
+"Why, what is the terrible secret, then?" he whispered, as he kissed her
+tenderly and made her throw her arms about his neck and utter a sob.
+
+"Ah, I see; something about Beck."
+
+She hid her face on his shoulder, and he felt her nod her head.
+
+"He told me what you said to him, dear," she whispered.  "It was very
+dreadful at a time like this, but I could not help him speaking."
+
+"Oh, he told you, eh?"
+
+"Yes, dear, and he told me what papa said."
+
+"Don't--don't talk about it, my child.  It seems too terrible now."
+
+"Yes, dear, it does," she said with a sob, "but the words would come.
+Let me ask you one thing, Neil, dear, and then I will not say another
+word.  I wouldn't say this, only it is so very terrible to me, and it's
+all so still and quiet here now in the middle of the night, and it seems
+just the time for speaking."
+
+"What is it, then?"
+
+Isabel was silent for a few moments, and then, with her lips very close
+to her brother's ear, she whispered:
+
+"Neil, dear, do you feel sure that papa will get better?"
+
+"Yes; I do not think there is any doubt about it."
+
+Isabel uttered a sigh full of relief, and, leaving her brother, went
+softly to the bedside to bend down and kiss the sufferer's brow.  Then
+returning, she nestled close up to her brother again.
+
+He kissed her affectionately, and led her toward the door.
+
+"There, good-night, now," he whispered, but she clung to him tightly,
+and he took her head between his hands and gazed down into her shrinking
+eyes.
+
+"What is it, little one?" he said; and she feebly struggled with him, so
+as to avert her face from his searching eyes, but she made no reply.
+
+"Why, Isabel, darling, what is it?  You have something you wish to say
+to me?"
+
+"Yes, Neil," she whispered, "but I hardly like to tell it."
+
+"I thought you were always ready to tell me everything."
+
+"Yes, dear," she said quickly now, and she looked up full in his face.
+"Neil, do you know what dear papa wishes?"
+
+"I have a suspicion."
+
+"It was more than a suspicion with me, Neil.  But, tell me, do you think
+now that he will want me to listen to that dreadful Sir Cheltnam?"
+
+"Let's wait and see, dear," said Neil quickly.  "We must not meet
+troubles half way.  This is no time to think of such a matter as that."
+
+"No; I felt that, dear, but I think so much about it that it would keep
+coming up."
+
+"Leave it now, and we will talk about it another time," said Neil
+gently.  "You can always come to me, Isabel, and I will try to be worthy
+of your confidence."
+
+"Yes, I know that, Neil," she said quickly; and after kissing him once
+more she hurried out of the room, leaving her brother to his thoughts
+and the long watch through the night.
+
+And as he seated himself near the bed, where he could gaze at the stern,
+deeply lined countenance upon the pillow, his memory went back to early
+days, when he and his brother felt something akin to dread whenever
+their father spoke.  And from that starting point he went on through
+boyhood up to manhood, right up to the present, when, after shaping the
+lives of his children as far as had been possible, his father seemed
+determined to carry out his plans for the future.
+
+A slight movement on the part of the patient made Elthorne rise from his
+seat, take the shaded lamp and go close to the bedside, but his father
+slept heavily, and he returned to his seat to continue unravelling the
+thread of his career.
+
+A few months back his father's plans had seemed of no consequence to him
+whatever.  Half jokingly Mr Elthorne had thrown him and Saxa Lydon
+together, and the bright, talkative girl, with her love of out door
+life, had amused him.  If he must marry, he thought it did not much
+matter to him who the lady might be, so long as she was not exacting and
+did not interfere with his studies.  Saxa Lydon was not likely to want
+him to take her into society.  She was too fond of her horses and dogs,
+and if it pleased his father, why, it would please him.
+
+But then came the appointment of Nurse Elisia to Sir Denton's ward, and
+by degrees a complete change had come over the spirit of his dream.  At
+first he had hardly noticed her save that she was a tall, graceful
+woman, with a sweet, calm, saddened countenance which he felt would be
+sympathetic to the patients; and, soon after, half wonderingly he had
+noticed the intense devotion of this refined gentlewoman to the various
+cases.  Nothing was too horrible, nothing too awful.  The most sordid
+and repellent duties were unshrinkingly done, and in the darkest, most
+wearisome watches of the night she was always at her post, patient and
+wakeful, ready to tend, to humour, to relieve the poor sufferer whose
+good fortune it had been to have her aid.
+
+Then he had thought it no wonder that Sir Denton was loud in her praise,
+and a certain intimacy of a friendly nature had sprung up between them,
+during which he had soon discovered that their new nurse was no ordinary
+woman, but who or what she was he had no idea, and it seemed was not
+likely to know, for she never referred to her antecedents.
+
+After a time he had often found himself after some painful episode at a
+patient's bedside, wondering why Nurse Elisia was there.  Everything
+about her betokened the lady, and no ordinary lady, and Neil
+unconsciously began building up romantic stories about her previous
+life, in most of which he painted her as a woman who had passed through
+some terrible ordeal, become disgusted with the world in which she had
+lived, and had determined to devote herself to the duty of assuaging the
+pangs of her suffering fellow-creatures.
+
+Once he had turned the conversation in her direction when dining with
+Sir Denton, but the old surgeon had quietly parried all inquiries, and
+at the same time let him see that he was touching on delicate ground in
+connection with one who was evidently his _protegee_.  Naturally this
+increased the interest as time went on, and he found himself taking note
+of the bearing of the old man toward the nurse.
+
+But he learned nothing by this.  Perhaps there was a quiet, paternal
+manner visible at times on Sir Denton's part, but on Nurse Elisia's
+nothing but an intense look and a display of eagerness to grasp fully
+his instructions in regard to some dying creature whose life they were
+trying to save.  Nothing more; and her bearing was the same to him,
+always calm and distant.  If ever she was eager, it was in respect to a
+patient, and, his wishes carried out, she was either watching at some
+bedside or gliding patiently about the ward to smooth and turn a hot
+pillow here, gently move an aching head or injured limb there; and after
+many months Neil Elthorne found, to the disturbance of his mental
+balance, that he was constantly thinking of Nurse Elisia, while, save in
+connection with her duties and his instructions, she apparently never
+gave him a thought.
+
+All these memories came back to Neil Elthorne as he sat that night by
+his father's couch.  They troubled and annoyed him, and he moved
+feverishly from time to time in his chair.
+
+"It is absurd," he said to himself.  "One would think I was some
+romantic boy, ready to be attracted by the first beautiful face I see--
+Yes; she is beautiful, after all, and that simple white cap and plain
+black dress only enhance instead of hiding it.  And she is a lady, I am
+sure.  But what does it mean?  A nurse; devoting herself to all those
+repulsive cases as if she were seeking by self-denial and punishment to
+make a kind of atonement for something which has gone before.  What can
+have gone before?  Who is she?  Why is she there?"
+
+His questioning thoughts became so unbearable that he rose from his
+seat, thrust off the soft slippers he was wearing, and began to pace the
+room.
+
+"It was quite time I left the hospital," he thought.  "The work there
+has weakened my nerves, and made me ready to think like this--caused
+this susceptible state.  Quite time I left.  It is a kind of disease,
+and I am glad I am away before I committed myself to some folly.  I
+should look well--I, a man with an advancing reputation--if I were to be
+questioned by Sir Denton upon what I meant by forgetting myself, and
+degrading myself by making advances toward one of the nurses.  It would
+come before the governors of the hospital, and I should be asked to
+resign.  I must be worse than I thought.  Too much strain.  Incipient
+nerve attacks previous to something more terrible.  There," he muttered,
+as he returned to and resumed his seat, "one never knows what is best
+for one's self.  It was right that I should come away from the hospital,
+and I am here.  Bah! ready in my selfishness to think I am of so much
+consequence that my poor father was called upon to suffer like this to
+save me from a folly.  Yes; there is no doubt about it," he added, after
+a pause, during which he sat in the semi-darkness of the bedroom gazing
+straight before him into the gloom; "I have been too much on the strain.
+A month or two in this pure air will set me up again, and I shall go
+back ready to look her calmly in the face as of old, and treat her as
+what she is--a hospital nurse.  You shall not have cause to blush for
+your son, father," he said in a low whisper as he leaned toward the bed
+and gently took the old man's hand.  "You will have enough to bear
+without meeting with rebellion against your wishes."
+
+He raised the hand to his lips, and then tenderly laid it back on the
+coverlet, bent over the sufferer, and drew back with a sigh.
+
+"It will be a question of time and careful nursing," he said, softly.
+"There must be no mental trouble to hinder his progress.  We must not
+let him feel his weakness and want of power, or he will suffer horribly.
+Only a few hours since, and so strong and well; but by management we
+can keep off a good deal, and we will.  My poor old dad!"
+
+CHAPTER SEVEN.
+
+"JOIN YOUR SHIP AT ONCE."
+
+The morning broke warm and bright, but the gloom within the fine old
+manor-house deepened as the facts became more and more impressed on all
+these that the master would, if his life were spared, never again be the
+same.
+
+Isabel came softly into the room twice during the night, so silently
+that Neil, as he sat watching, did not hear her till she touched his
+arm.  She stayed with him for a time, and as they sat together in those
+solemn hours brother and sister seemed to be drawn more together than
+before.  Not that there had ever been any gap between them, for Neil,
+partaking more of the nature of their dead mother than Alison, had
+always been the one to whom Isabel had clung, and whom she had gone to
+with her troubles when their father was in his sterner and most exacting
+moods.
+
+Alison, too, came twice to see how the patient was; but here, somehow,
+his brother's manner and words are jarred upon Neil, for there seemed a
+want of sympathy and a suggestion of Alison's feeling free and
+independent, now that the autocrat of their house, hold had been cast
+down from his throne.
+
+Just before morning, too, Aunt Anne had been in, ready to assert that
+she might just as well have sat up and kept her nephew company, for she
+had not slept a wink, her eyes stubbornly refusing to support her
+declaration, for they looked as if they had been tightly closed for
+hours.
+
+As the morning progressed, and the injured man still lay in a
+stupor-like sleep, visitors and messengers arrived with inquiries about
+his state.
+
+Beck was one of the first, and he came in the hope that Isabel would
+contrive to see him for a few minutes.  He was not disappointed, for he
+had not been seated many minutes before Isabel came into the drawing
+room quite by accident, to fetch some work left on one of the chairs,
+and in an instant her hands were clasped in those of the young sailor.
+
+"No, no!" she cried excitedly.  "You know what papa said."
+
+"Yes," he said earnestly; "and it would be cowardly and mean of me to
+take advantage of his lying there helpless.  See, I will try and act
+like a gentleman,"--he dropped her hands--"I only want to tell you,
+Isabel, that, come what may, I shall keep to my course.  Some day, when
+he is well again--"
+
+"Then you think he will get well?" she cried eagerly.
+
+"Yes; why not?" responded Beck.  "I say, some day, when he is well
+again, he may alter and not be so set against me, and I am going to wait
+till then."
+
+"Yes," she said with a sigh.
+
+"I am not going to doubt you for a moment, Isabel.  I don't think, after
+all these years, you could turn from me; and when your father sees
+really what is for your happiness, he will, I believe, relent."
+
+Tom Beck had no opportunity to say more, for just then Aunt Anne bustled
+into the room.
+
+"You, Mr Beck?" she said.  "Why, I thought it was your father."
+
+"He is going to try and get across, by and by, in the invalid chair.  He
+is not up yet, and honestly I do not think he is fit to leave his bed;
+but he says he must, and he will."
+
+"Poor man!" sighed Aunt Anne.  "Oh, dear me, Mr Beck, what a deal of--
+Isabel, my dear, don't wait."
+
+"No, Aunt," said the girl quietly; and then, to herself, "Papa must have
+told Aunt Anne not to let me be along with Tom, or she would not have
+spoken like that."
+
+Then aloud--
+
+"Good-bye, Mr Beck;" and she held out her hand, which was taken for a
+moment and then dropped, as she turned and left the room.
+
+The vicar's son had hardly left the house an hour when Sir Cheltnam rode
+over to make inquiries, and was leaving his card, when Alison came into
+the hall and went out on the steps to speak to him.
+
+"Can't ask you in," said Alison.  "The governor's very bad."
+
+"Got a doctor down from London, haven't you?"
+
+"We've had one in consultation, but he has gone back."
+
+"But our doctor here is not attending him, for I met him, and he was
+asking about it, and thought it rather strange that he had not been sent
+for."
+
+"Humph!  You see, my brother is attending him."
+
+"Oh!" ejaculated Sir Cheltnam.  "Well, it's no business of mine, but if
+anything happened to the old man it wouldn't look well, and people would
+talk about it a good deal.  I say, isn't your brother rather disposed to
+ride the high horse?"
+
+Alison winced.
+
+"What do you mean?" he said rather roughly.  "Oh, nothing much.  A bit
+haughty with me, as if he did not approve of my pretensions.  Coming the
+elder brother a bit, and I'm getting nervous as to what it is going to
+be now your father is down."
+
+"Oh, it is only Neil's way," said Alison sulkily.  "And you don't seem
+much better.  If you came over to my place, I should ask you in, and
+call a man to take your horse."
+
+"How can I ask you in at a time like this?" said Alison apologetically.
+
+"Easily enough, and take me into the drawing room.  How is Isabel?"
+
+"Broken-hearted, nearly.  This came about directly after the governor
+had given Tom Beck his _conge_."
+
+"Then he had done that?"
+
+"Yes; and the little girl's a bit sore about it."
+
+"Cheerful for me!" said Sir Cheltnam.
+
+"Bah!  He'll be off to sea directly, and she'll soon forget him."
+
+"Then you think I had better not come in to-day?  I'm off, then.  Wish
+the old man better.  I'll come on again to-morrow to see how he is.  I
+say, tell Isabel I called and was in great trouble, and that sort of
+thing."
+
+"Oh, yes; all right," growled Alison.
+
+"Pleasant sort of a brother-in-law in prospective," said Sir Cheltnam to
+himself, as he cantered off.
+
+"Takes it as a matter of course that he is to have her," muttered
+Alison.  "I'm not so sure."
+
+He bit one of his nails and watched the visitor till he was out of
+sight, and still stood at the foot of the steps frowning.
+
+"Even he sees it," he muttered.  "I won't stand any more of his
+arbitrary ways.  He is only a year older than I am, and yet he is to
+lord it over me as if I were a child.  Why should he take the lead in
+everything?  Is he to do so always?  Not if I know it.  If all this
+means that a new king reigns in Hightoft, it is not going to be brother
+Neil."
+
+Almost in perfect ignorance of what was going on downstairs, Neil
+remained patiently watching by his father's side.  Aunt and sister had
+both begged him to go and lie down, insisting upon the fact that he
+would be quite helpless at night, and that it was his duty, so as to be
+ready to watch again, but he only smiled.
+
+"My dear Aunt," he said at last to that lady, who was greatly agitated
+in his behalf, "a doctor grows used to watching by his patient's
+bedside, and gets little snatches of sleep which refresh him.  Believe
+me, I am not a bit tired."
+
+At that moment Isabel entered the room with a telegram.
+
+"For you, Neil, dear," she said.
+
+"It has been opened."
+
+"Yes, dear, Alison opened it.  He said it must be for him."
+
+Neil frowned, but said no more, and taking out the telegram he read:
+
+  "The nurse leaves town this afternoon.  Let a carriage meet her at the
+  station.
+
+  "Hayle."
+
+"Hah!" he said, passing the letter to his aunt.  "I am glad of that; it
+will set me free, and the help of a good nurse at a time like this is
+invaluable."
+
+"But shall we be able to trust her?" said Aunt Anne.  "My experience of
+nurses is that they are dreadful women, who drink and go to sleep in
+sickrooms, and the patient cannot wake them, and dies for want of
+attention."
+
+"Oh, Aunt!" cried Isabel.
+
+"I am assured that it is quite true, my dear," said Aunt Anne,
+didactically.
+
+"I think we have changed all that, Aunt, dear," said Neil, smiling.
+"Sir Denton would not send down any woman who is not thoroughly
+trustworthy."
+
+Aunt Anne pursed up her lips, and tried to look wise and full of
+experience--a difficult task for a lady with her plump, dimpled
+countenance.
+
+"Well, my dear," she said, "I hope so; but it always seems to me that
+the selection of an attendant for a sick man is a lady's duty, and I
+cannot believe in the choice made by a man, and such an old man too.
+But there, we shall see."
+
+"Yes, Aunt, dear," said Neil, smiling, "we shall see."
+
+Aunt Anne was left in charge of the patient, very much to her
+satisfaction, so that Neil could go down with Isabel for a rest and a
+little fresh air.
+
+As they reached the hall they met Alison, who came up directly.
+
+"Oh, Neil," he said, "I opened that telegram thinking it might be meant
+for me."
+
+"Yes," said his brother.  "I heard that you did."
+
+"Quite a mistake I hope you don't mind."
+
+"I have other things to take my attention," replied Neil.  "Come,
+Isabel, let's have a walk up and down in the fresh air.  I can't stay
+long."
+
+He led the way out on to the drive, and, after hesitating for a few
+moments, Alison followed, frowning, just as the sound of horses' hoofs
+was heard, and Saxa and Dana Lydon rode up.
+
+"Well, how's the dad?" cried Saxa boisterously.  "Going on all right?
+Glad of it.  You boys are making too much fuss over it.  Nature soon
+cures a fall.  It isn't like a disease, is it, Doctor?"
+
+"It's of no use to ask him," said Dana merrily.  "He'll pull a
+professional face, and make the worst of it, and then by and by, rub his
+hands and say, `There; see what a clever fellow I am.'"
+
+"Yes," said Saxa maliciously, "when I could have set him right with some
+embrocation and a bit of flannel bandage."
+
+"Glad the old man's better," cried Dana.  "Here, you people look white
+and worried.  Order out the horses and come for an hour's ride."
+
+"Would you like to go, Isabel?" asked Neil.
+
+"I?  Oh, no," cried the girl hurriedly.
+
+"What a baby you are, Bel!" said Saxa contemptuously.  "You'll come,
+Neil?"
+
+"I should like a ride," he replied, "but it is impossible to leave
+home."
+
+"Next time I ask you there will be a different answer," said the girl
+sharply.  "Don't ask Alison, Dan," she continued, turning to her sister.
+"He is going to be a good boy too, and stop and see his papa take his
+barley-water."
+
+"Is he?" said Alison gruffly.  "Perhaps he was not going to wait to be
+asked.  There is no occasion for me to hang about at home, Neil?"
+
+"N-no, I think not.  You can do nothing."
+
+"I'll be ready in five minutes, then, girls."
+
+"Here, we'll come round to the stables with you," said Saxa.  "I want to
+see The Don.  Is he any the worse for his fall?"
+
+She said this as she rode on beside Alison, her sister following,
+without any further notice of Neil and his sister, while the former
+stood looking after her, frowning.
+
+"And I thought of marrying that hoyden!" he said to himself.  "It is
+impossible.  We have not a sympathy in common."
+
+Then the thought of his father's expressed wishes came back, and of his
+lying there helpless.  He had made no opposition when the matter had
+been spoken of last.  How could he draw back now?
+
+His heart sank low as he looked into the future with a kind of wonder as
+to what his future life would be bound up to a woman like that, and a
+feeling of anger rose within him at his weakness in letting the affair
+drift on so far.
+
+"It is impossible," he thought.  "She does not care for me.  It would be
+madness--a sin against her and against myself.  Yes!" he said aloud with
+a start, for Isabel had laid her hand upon his arm.
+
+"There is something the matter," she said quickly.
+
+Neil turned to hurry into the house, but his sister held him fast.
+
+"No, no, dear.  Tom is coming.  Mr Beck must be worse."
+
+Neil looked in the direction taken by her eyes, and saw that the young
+lieutenant was striding rapidly toward them, coming by the short cut
+across the park, and now, seeing that he was observed, he waved his
+hand.
+
+"Go in, Isabel," said Neil quietly.
+
+"Neil!"
+
+"I wish it, my dear.  After what has passed, you have no right to see
+him now."
+
+She gave him a tearful look, and went in with her head bent down to hide
+her face from anyone who might be at the windows.
+
+The next minute the young sailor hurried up.
+
+"You have sent her in, Neil," he said reproachfully.
+
+"Yes; why have you come back so soon?  Anything wrong?"
+
+"Yes," said the young man hoarsely.
+
+"Your father?  I'll come on."
+
+"No, no.  Read that."
+
+He thrust a telegram into Neil's hand, which read: "To join your ship at
+once.  Imperative!"
+
+"Yes; and I cannot go with matters like this," cried Beck.
+
+"But you must.  Your position as an officer is at stake."
+
+"I can't help it.  Neil Elthorne, put yourself in my place.  How can I
+go and leave Isabel at such a time?"
+
+"What good could you do if you stayed?"
+
+"It would help her.  She would know I was near.  I can't go and leave
+her knowing what I do about that fellow Burwood."
+
+Neil looked at him fixedly for a few moments.  "Don't play the boy," he
+said at last sternly.
+
+"No; I am going to play the man," cried Beck.  "Isabel and I have been
+girl and boy together, and our affection has gradually strengthened till
+I know that she loves me as well as I love her."
+
+"Yes, perhaps so, my lad, but you heard her father's decision, and you
+can do no more."
+
+"Yes; I heard his decision," said the young sailor sturdily, "and I am
+not going to stand by and see her given up to that man!  Why, Neil, it
+would kill her."
+
+"Look here, Tom, my good fellow, you must be sensible.  It would be no
+kindness to my sister to let her feel that she had ruined your
+prospects."
+
+"It would not ruin my prospects," said Beck sturdily.  "I'm a good
+sailor, and if I lose my ship I can always get employment in the
+merchant service."
+
+"Of course you could, but neither Isabel nor I are going to let you
+degrade yourself.  My father is dangerously ill, and nothing such as you
+fear can advance a step for months to come, so join your ship like a
+man, and show that you have faith in the girl you believe to love you."
+
+"If I only could think--" began Beck.
+
+"Look here, Tom.  I think you have some faith in me."
+
+"In you?  My dear Neil," cried the young sailor warmly, "if ever fellow
+looked upon another man as a brother, I do upon you.  Why, you know
+that."
+
+"Yes, I know that," said Neil, taking his arm and walking up and down
+the drive with him, "and I am going always to behave like a brother to
+you.  Go and join your ship."
+
+"But Isabel?"
+
+"Leave me to act for you over that matter as a brother would.  For both
+your sakes I will do what is best."
+
+"But Burwood?"
+
+"I don't like Burwood, and I do like you," said Neil, smiling.  "Come,
+will not that satisfy you?"
+
+"Almost.  You will fight for me, then, Neil?"
+
+"I don't think that there will be any occasion to fight for you.  I
+think time is on your side.  Lieutenant Beck's chance was very small
+with my father; but suppose one Captain Beck, a young officer who had
+distinguished himself by his seamanship in Her Majesty's service, came
+and renewed his proposal for my sister's hand, surely he would have a
+better chance of success."
+
+"Neil, old fellow," cried Beck, facing round and grasping the young
+surgeon's hand, "I don't wonder that you are getting to be a big fellow
+at your hospital."
+
+"Nonsense!  Who says I am?"
+
+"Oh, I've heard.  I wish I were as clever as you are.  I came here
+feeling so bad that life didn't seem worth living, and in a few minutes
+you've shown things to me in such a different light that--"
+
+"You think it is worth living and sharing with someone else," cried
+Neil.
+
+"My dear old fellow," cried the sailor, with tears in his eyes.
+
+"And you will go off like a man and join your ship?"
+
+"Yes," cried Beck, grasping his friend's hand, and speaking firmly,
+"like a man."
+
+"And you go at once?"
+
+"Directly.  Now take me in, and let me say good-bye to her."
+
+"No," said Neil firmly.
+
+"What?  After my promise?"
+
+"After your promise.  I have a duty to my helpless father, Tom, my lad,
+and I should be playing a very dishonourable part if I took advantage of
+his position, knowing what I do of his wishes, to arrange a meeting
+between you and my sister.  That was a love-sick boy speaking, not the
+Queen's officer--the man whose honour is beyond reproach."
+
+"I suppose you are right," said Beck, after a pause.  "You know I am."
+
+"Let me see her for a moment, though."
+
+"No."
+
+"I know you are right--just to say `good-bye' before you--just to touch
+her hand."
+
+"No, my lad.  Say good-bye to me, and I'll tell her you love her truly,
+and that you have gone off to your duty like a man--an officer and a
+gentleman.  That you have exacted no promise from her, and that you have
+taken the advice of her brother--a man who loves you both and will help
+you to the end.  There, I must go back to my father's room.  Good-bye."
+
+"O Neil," groaned the young sailor; "this is all so hard and
+business-like.  Everything goes easily for you.  You don't know what
+love is."
+
+A spasm contracted Neil's features for a few moments, but he smiled
+sadly directly after.
+
+"Perhaps not," he said.  "Who knows?  There, business-like or not, you
+know I am doing my duty and you have to do yours.  Come, sailor, I shall
+begin to quote Shakespeare to you.  `Aboard, for shame; the wind sits in
+the shoulder of your sail, and you are staid for.'"
+
+"But it is so hard, Neil."
+
+"Life's duties are hard, man; but we men must do them at any cost.
+Come, good-bye, and old Shakespeare again--the end of the old man's
+speech: `To thine own self be true'--and you will be true to the girl
+you wish to make your wife.  Good-bye."
+
+Neil held out his hand, but it remained untouched for the full space of
+a minute before it was seized and crushed heavily between two nervous
+sets of fingers, while the young man's eyes gazed fixedly in his.  Then
+it was dashed aside.  Beck swung himself round and dashed off across the
+park as hard as he could go, without trusting himself to look back.
+
+CHAPTER EIGHT.
+
+CONFLICTING EMOTIONS.
+
+"Poor fellow!" said Neil to himself; "and the dad prefers that hunting,
+racing baronet to him for a son-in-law!  Why it would break little Bel's
+heart."
+
+He stood watching till Beck passed in among the trees, expecting to the
+last to see him turn and wave his hand.
+
+"No; gone," he said.  "Well, I must fight their battle--when the time
+comes--but it is quite another battle now."
+
+As he thought this he heard the clattering of hoofs, and hastened his
+steps so as to get indoors before his brother rode out of the stable
+yard with the Lydon sisters, and a guilty feeling sent the blood into
+his pale cheeks.  But he did not check his steps; he rather hastened
+them.
+
+"They don't want to see me again," he muttered; and then, "Oh, what a
+miserable, contemptible coward I am; preaching to that young fellow
+about his duty, and here I am, the next minute, deceiving myself and
+utterly wanting in strength to do mine.  I ought to go out and say
+good-bye to Saxa, and I will."
+
+He stopped and turned to go, but a hand was laid upon his arm, and, as
+he faced round, it was to see a little white appealing face turned up to
+his, and as he passed his arm round his sister's waist the horses' hoofs
+crushed the gravel by the door, passed on, and the sound grew more
+faint.
+
+"Neil, dear; Tom has gone.  Is his father very ill?"
+
+These words brought the young surgeon back to the troubles of others in
+place of his own.
+
+"No, dear; he is no worse.  It was not that," he said hastily.
+
+"What was it, then?  Oh, Neil, dear, you hurt me.  You are keeping
+something back."
+
+"I am not going to keep anything back, little sis," he said tenderly.
+"Come in here."
+
+He led her into the drawing room and closed the door, while she clung to
+him, searching his eyes with her own wistful gaze, as her lips trembled.
+
+"Now, dear, pray tell me.  Why did Tom come?"
+
+"He had bad news, dear."
+
+"About his ship?" cried the girl wildly.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"O Neil!  It was about going back to sea!"
+
+Neil nodded, and drew her more closely to him, but she resisted.  His
+embrace seemed to stifle her; she could hardly breathe.
+
+"You are cruel to me," she panted.  "But I know," she cried half
+hysterically; "he has to go soon."
+
+"He has to do his duty as a Queen's officer, Isabel, dear, and you must
+be firm."
+
+"Yes, yes, dear, of course," she cried, struggling hard the while to
+master her emotion.  "I will, indeed, try--to be calm--and patient.  But
+tell me; he has had a message about rejoining his ship?"
+
+"Yes, dear."
+
+"And he is to go soon?"
+
+Neil was silent.
+
+"Neil, pray speak," she sobbed.
+
+"Yes, my child.  He brought a telegram."
+
+"A despatch," she said, correcting him.
+
+"No, dear--a telegram."
+
+"Then--then--it means--something sudden--for them to telegraph.  I can
+bear it, now, dear.  How soon is he to go?"
+
+"Isabel, my child, will you trust in me to help you to do what is best?"
+said Neil tenderly.
+
+"Yes, Neil, dear; of course, I want to do what is right, and you will
+help me."
+
+"I will, dear, with all my strength.  You know that Tom has his duty to
+do, like the rest of us, and you have yours to our poor father."
+
+"Yes, Neil, of course, and you know I try."
+
+"My darling, yes," he cried, as he kissed the pale cheeks wet now with
+tears.
+
+"Then tell me.  I must know.  When is Tom to go?"
+
+"Isabel, your father forbade all engagement with him, and I have talked
+to Tom Beck as I thought was best for both of you.  Come, you must act
+like a brave little woman and help me.  We have both got our duty to do
+now at a very sad time.  You will help me and try to be firm?"
+
+"Yes--yes," she whispered hoarsely, "but--but--Neil--tell me--when is he
+to go?"
+
+"Isabel, dear, it was his duty as an officer and as an honourable man."
+
+"Yes," she whispered in a strangely low tone.  "Tom would do his duty
+always, I know--now--you are keeping something back.  I can see it," she
+cried, growing more excited and struggling in his arms.  "I know now--
+and without bidding me good-bye.  Neil, you have sent him away; he is
+gone!"
+
+Neil bent his head sadly, and she literally snatched herself away.
+
+"And you call yourself my brother!" she cried passionately.  "You say
+you taught him his duty; and, after all he has said to me, to make him
+go without one word.  Oh, it is cruel--it is cruel.  What have I done
+that you should treat me so?"
+
+"Isabel, dear, you promised me that you would be firm."
+
+"How can a woman be firm at a time like this?  But I know; you could not
+be so cruel.  He is coming back just to see me and say good-bye."
+
+"He has gone, Isabel."
+
+"Without a single word or look?"
+
+She gazed at him as if dazed, and unable to believe his words.  Then
+uttering a low, piteous cry, she sank helpless across his arms, her eyes
+closed, and for hours she lay for the most part unconscious, only
+awakening from time to time to burst into a passion of hysterical
+weeping as her senses returned.
+
+"Duty is hard--very hard," said Neil through his set teeth, as he
+divided his time between his father's and his sister's chambers, where
+Aunt Anne sat sobbing and bewailing their fate.  Alison had returned at
+dusk, and partaken of the dinner alone, to go afterward to his little
+study, where he sat and scowled and smoked.
+
+The carriage had been sent to the station in accordance with Sir
+Denton's request, and then forgotten by all in the house, and the night
+was going on apace.
+
+Neil had just left his sister's room and gone back to his father's to
+find him hot and feverish to an extent which rather troubled him, and
+once more made him long for the friendly counsel and advice of a
+colleague.
+
+But his sound common sense gave him the help he needed, and after
+administering medicine he became satisfied with the result and sat by
+the bedside thinking of the stern duty he had to fulfill.
+
+"I judge Saxa too hardly," he said to himself.  "I do not go the way to
+make her care for me, and it is no wonder that she should be piqued by
+my indifference.  I'll try and alter it, for all that other is a foolish
+dream, and due to my low nervous state.  I'll turn over a new leaf
+to-morrow, and see what can be done.  It would help him in his recovery
+if he knew that his dearest wishes were bearing fruit; and if I satisfy
+him over that, he will yield to mine about poor little Isabel.  She will
+not be so hard to-morrow when her sorrow is being softened down.  For I
+did right, and I'll do right about Saxa, poor girl!  I was quite rude to
+her to-day.  I'll ride over to-morrow and fetch her to see him.  He
+likes her as much as he does Isabel.  There, I think I am getting things
+into train for the beginning of a new life, and--What is it?"
+
+"The carriage back from the station, my dear," whispered Aunt Anne.
+"The new nurse is in the hall.  Will you come down and speak to her at
+once?"
+
+"Yes, Aunt.  Thank Heaven, she has come."
+
+He hurried out of the room and down the stairs to where, in the dim
+light, a tall cloaked figure stood by her humble-looking luggage.  And
+as he went he had made up in his mind the words he would say to her
+about getting some refreshment at once and joining him in the sick
+chamber, where a bed had been made up in the dressing room for her use.
+
+But Neil Elthorne did not speak the words he had meant to say, for, as
+the visitor turned at his step, he stopped short with the blood rushing
+to his brain, and a strange sensation of vertigo attacking him as he
+faltered out:
+
+"Good Heavens!  Nurse Elisia!  Has he sent you?"
+
+CHAPTER NINE.
+
+OFF TO HIGHTOFT.
+
+"There, you are better now."
+
+"No, I'm not."
+
+"Yes, indeed you are.  This has nothing to do with the operation, I
+assure you."
+
+"Then, pray, what is it?"  This question very sharply, and the patient
+moved in her bed in a way that showed very little feebleness.
+
+"Simply hysteria."
+
+"What!  Sterricks?"
+
+"Yes, a form of hysterics."
+
+"There!" cried the patient, with a triumphant tone in her voice.  "I
+knew you didn't know nothing about it.  I never had sterricks in my
+life."
+
+"Because you have always been a woman in a vigorous state of health.
+Latterly you have been brought down rather low."
+
+"'Taint that," said the woman sharply, "it's what's done to me here, and
+the shameful neglect.  It's horrid; I'm half killed, and then Mr Neil
+goes away and leaves me to that horrible old man, and as soon as Mr
+Neil's gone, the other leaves me to die."
+
+"I am afraid you are a very foolish woman," said the nurse quietly.  "I
+can assure you that you are getting well fast."
+
+"Oh, yes, I know.  And you are as bad as they are.  It's shameful!"
+
+"You have been working yourself up to think you are being neglected, but
+your troubles are imaginary."
+
+"Oh, yes, I know," cried the woman angrily.
+
+"Pray try and be reasonable," said the nurse, speaking in a voice full
+of patient resignation.
+
+"Go on, pray, ma'am.  You've all got me down here and are trampling on
+me.  I'm unreasonable now, am I?"
+
+"I am afraid you are a little," said the nurse, smiling as she
+rearranged the bedclothes.  "Mr Elthorne went away because he was worn
+out with attending the poor people here, and Sir Denton was telegraphed
+for to attend some unfortunate gentleman who had met with an accident."
+
+"Then he oughtn't to have gone," cried the woman loudly.
+
+"Pray, hush," said the nurse.  "You are hurting yourself and upsetting
+the other patients."
+
+"And I say he'd no right to go.  My life's as much consequence as
+anybody else's life, and it's a shameful piece of neglect.  Oh, if I do
+live to get away from this 'ateful place, I'll let some of you know.
+I'm to be left to die because the doctors are too idle to come and see
+me.  If I'd only known, you'd never caught me here."
+
+"Hush, hush!  Pray be quiet, dear.  You are making yourself hot and
+feverish."
+
+The nurse laid her cool white hand upon the patient's brow, but she
+resented it and thrust it away.  "Let me be.  I don't want holding down.
+It's shameful.  It's cruel.  Oh, why did I come to this dreadful place?
+As for that Sir Denton, or whatever his name is--"
+
+"What about him?  Do you want me?" said the gentleman in question, who
+had come into the ward and up to the bed unnoticed.  "How are you this
+morning?--Ah, better."
+
+"No, I'm not, I'm worse, and it's shameful."
+
+"What is?" said the surgeon, smiling.
+
+"For me to be neglected by the doctors and nurses as I am.  It's too
+bad, it is; and I might have died--no doctor, no nurse."
+
+"Ah, yes; it is very cruel," said Sir Denton.  "I have shamefully
+neglected my patients here, and as for the conduct of Nurse Elisia to
+you, it is almost criminal.  You will have to go back home to your own
+people and be properly treated.  Dreadful places, these hospitals are."
+
+Nurse Elisia looked up at the old surgeon with wondering eyes, as he
+took the woman's own tone, but he smiled at her sadly.
+
+"Come with me, I want to talk to you.  Poor thing," he said, as they
+walked away, "she is in the irritable, weary state of the convalescent.
+She is not answerable for what she says.  Sorry I was obliged to go, but
+the case was urgent.  Mr Elthorne's father.  A terrible accident.  The
+spine injured, and paralysis of the lower part of the body."
+
+"Mr Elthorne's father!" cried the nurse, turning pale.  "How shocking!"
+
+"Terrible.  Mr Elthorne telegraphed for me.  It was not necessary, for
+he was doing everything possible, and now it is a case of careful
+nursing to save the poor fellow's life."
+
+"Nursing?"
+
+"Yes.  I have promised Mr Elthorne to send him down the most helpful,
+trustworthy nurse I knew, at once."
+
+"Sir Denton," faltered the nurse, with a faint colour rising in her
+cheeks.
+
+"It is an exceptional ease, my child, one which calls for all a nurse's
+skill and tenderness with, perhaps, as much patience as I have seen you
+exercise toward that foolish woman.  I am going to ask you to start at
+once for Hightoft, and take up this case."
+
+"Sir Denton!" she cried.  "Oh! it is impossible."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"My patients here."
+
+"Your place can be filled, just as it would be necessary to fill it if
+you were taken ill."
+
+"But I am not ill, Sir Denton, and I am needed here."
+
+"But you are needed there--at this gentleman's house, where the services
+of a patient lady like yourself would be invaluable."
+
+"I could not go, Sir Denton; I beg you will not send me."
+
+"It is in a lovely part of the country.  It is a charming place, and I
+can guarantee for you that the ladies will receive you as their equal--
+perhaps as their superior," he added with a meaning smile, which made
+her look slightly resentful.
+
+"Really, Sir Denton," she began.
+
+"Forgive me," he said.  "It was a slip.  I have no wish to pry into your
+private life, Nurse Elisia.  I am only thankful to have the help and
+co-operation of a refined woman in my sad cases here."
+
+"Thank you, Sir Denton, but you must excuse me from this."
+
+"I cannot," he said firmly, "for I feel that it is your duty to go.  I
+have no hesitation in saying that it is absolutely necessary for you to
+have a change, even if you do not have rest, but you will be able to
+combine both there."
+
+"Pray send someone else, Sir Denton."
+
+"I know nobody whom I could trust as I would you, Nurse Elisia," he
+replied quietly, "and I am quite sure that there is no one in whom Mr
+Elthorne would have so much confidence."
+
+He noted the change in the nurse's mobile countenance as he went on
+speaking in his quiet way, for she was evidently agitated and trying
+hard to conceal it.
+
+"You see it would be so advantageous," he continued.  "After a few days
+you could set Mr Elthorne at liberty to come back here.  Of course, as
+you know, the case is one which needs almost wholly a careful nurse's
+skill.  How soon will you be free to go?"
+
+Like lightning the thoughts flashed through her brain of the position
+she would occupy.  It was like throwing her constantly in Neil
+Elthorne's society, and she shrank from the position almost with horror.
+For, of late there had been no disguising from herself the fact that
+the young surgeon had, in his quiet way, been more than courteous to
+her, and that his manner betokened a something, which on his side was
+fast ripening into admiration.
+
+"It is impossible," she thought.  "It would be cruelty to him, for he is
+sincere and manly.  No, I cannot go.  It would be a crime.  Sir Denton,"
+she said hastily, aloud.  "You must excuse me from this duty.  I cannot
+go."
+
+"No," he said firmly, and he took her hand.  "I cannot, I will not
+excuse you.  Once more I tell you that you ought to go; it is your
+duty."
+
+"But why?" she cried, rather excitedly.
+
+"Because you--evidently a lady of gentle birth--have set yourself the
+task of toiling for your suffering fellow-creatures.  Here is one who
+may die if you do not go to his help."
+
+"But another would be as efficient."
+
+"I do not know one at the present moment whom I would trust as I would
+you; and in addition, the call comes at a time when it is imperative
+that you should have rest and change."
+
+"But," she said, with a smile full of perplexity, "that would not be
+rest and change."
+
+"Can you not trust me to advise you for your good?" said Sir Denton
+gravely.
+
+"Oh, yes, but--"
+
+"That `but' again.  Come, nurse, I think you believe that I take great
+interest in you."
+
+"Oh, yes, Sir Denton," she said eagerly.
+
+"Then trust me in this.  Take my advice.  More--oblige me by going.  I
+am surgeon here, and you are nurse, but it has seemed to me, for some
+time past, that we have had a closer intimacy--that of friends.  Come,
+you will oblige me?"
+
+"It is your wish then, that I should go?"
+
+"Indeed, yes.  When will you be ready to start?"
+
+"At once."
+
+"That is good.  Then I will telegraph down, so that a carriage may be in
+waiting for you at the station.  I am sure that Mr Elthorne will see
+that you have every comfort and attention.  Good-morning.  Thanks."
+
+Nurse Elisia stood by the door of the ward, watching the retiring figure
+of the old surgeon as he passed down the corridor.
+
+"Is it not weak to have given way?" she said to herself.  "Perhaps not
+in such a case as this.  Mr Elthorne will see that I have every comfort
+and attention," she said softly.  "Mr Elthorne must be taught that I am
+the hospital nurse, sent down there for a special purpose.  Mr Elthorne
+is weak, and given to follies such as I should not have suspected in so
+wise and able a man."
+
+She stood hesitating for a few moments looking toward where Maria Bell
+lay, evidently watching her attentively, and her first impulse was to
+cross to the woman and to tell her that she would be handed over now to
+the charge of another nurse; but, reconsidering the matter, she decided
+merely to tell the next nurse in authority that she must take full
+charge of the ward, and going down to the matron, she stated that she
+would be absent for a time.  That evening she was being hurried down by
+a fast train, to reach the station within a few minutes of the appointed
+time, and she had scarcely stepped on to the platform when a man's voice
+made her start with dread lest it should be Neil.
+
+"The nurse for Hightoft?" said the voice; and as she turned she found
+that it was only a servant.
+
+"Yes, I am the nurse," she replied.
+
+"Well, here's a carriage for you.  Any luggage?"
+
+The man's voice was sharp, and wanting in respect, the ordering of the
+carriage for a long night drive having found little favour with coachman
+and footman.
+
+"That little black bag, that is all," said the nurse quietly.
+
+"Don't mean to stay long, then," said the man with a laugh, as he took
+the little travelling bag, and swung it up on to the foot-board, while
+the nurse stood patiently waiting, and without resenting the man's
+insolence and indifference as he entered into a conversation with the
+coachman before turning and, stepping back, stared hard at the calm,
+refined face dimly seen by the feeble station lamps.
+
+"Will you have the goodness to open the carriage door?"
+
+"Eh?  Open the door?  Of course.  Just going to," said the footman
+cavalierly, as he snatched open the door and rattled down the steps.
+
+He held out his hand, but she stepped in without his assistance, the
+door was banged sharply to, and the handle took some time to turn, as
+the man stared in at the visitor, who quietly drew up the window and
+sank back in her seat.
+
+"Gives herself airs, does she!" said the footman to himself.  "How fond
+people who have never been in a carriage before are of making believe
+they are used to one.  Can't cheat me, my lady.  Bet a shilling she has
+never been in anything better than a cab or a station-fly before in her
+life."
+
+"What are you grumbling about?" said the coachman, as his fellow-servant
+climbed up to his side.
+
+"Nothing, only thinking aloud about her ladyship inside.  Got in with a
+reg'lar toss of her head.  There, hit 'em up, Tom, and let's get back.
+I don't want to be on this job all night."
+
+"Regular nurse, arn't she?" said the coachman.  "Horspittle?"
+
+"Yes, I suppose so.  Dressed up like a nun out for a holiday.  Why
+couldn't they have had a nurse out of the village, or your wife?"
+
+"Ah!  Why indeed?" said the coachman sourly.  "'Fraid poor people should
+make a few shillings too much, I suppose.  It's just the same if one of
+the horses is bad; we must have the vet to see him, when I could put him
+right in a week.  It's having the name does it with some people.
+Horspittle nurse!  A deal, I dare say, she knows."
+
+The ill-usage to which he and his fellow-servants were called upon to
+submit claimed both their tongues during the long, dark drive to
+Hightoft, while Nurse Elisia sat back in the carriage, dreamy and
+thoughtful, watching the lights of the lamps thrown upon hedgerow and
+tree as the good pair of horses trotted swiftly back.
+
+It seemed a strange contrast to the glaring, shop-filled streets of
+sooty London, this long winding lane with only a long, low whitewashed
+cottage seen at intervals.  So quiet and calm was it all that there
+appeared to be no reason for the rapid action of the nurse's pulses as
+they sped onward.  But the action was going on, and the occupant of the
+carriage felt a strange longing more than once to pull the check string,
+and bid the coachman stop and turn back.  But she refrained and grew
+cooler as they progressed, forcing herself to keep on trying to make out
+the landscape, till, in due time, the lodge gates were passed, and the
+carriage drawn up at the entrance, where Nurse Elisia descended and
+stood beside her little bag till Neil descended and uttered the words
+expressing his astonishment at her presence there.
+
+CHAPTER TEN.
+
+NEIL IS PERPLEXED.
+
+Neil Elthorne had hard work to control himself for, paradoxically,
+although Nurse Elisia was the most likely personage for Sir Denton to
+send down to attend his young friend's father, it had never once
+occurred to him that she would be chosen.
+
+"I am glad you have come," he said quietly.  "Ah, here is my aunt," he
+continued, as that lady appeared.  "Aunt, dear, this is Nurse Elisia,
+from the hospital.  Will you see that she is shown to her room and has
+some refreshment before she comes upstairs?"
+
+Isabel, looking very white and careworn, joined them as he spoke, unable
+to withdraw his eyes from the countenance which filled so large a
+portion of his meditative hours, but the nurse met his eyes calmly and
+turned and bowed to Aunt Anne and Isabel in turn, the former lady
+seeming quite taken back by the attendant's appearance.
+
+"I don't like the look of her at all, Isabel, my dear," she said, as
+soon as they were alone.  "I expected she would look like a nurse, not
+be a tall body like that."
+
+"She seemed very nice, Aunt, dear," said Isabel quietly, "and of course
+she will be a very skillful nurse.  I thought she looked very tired, but
+her face seemed to me quite beautiful."
+
+"Good-looking, not beautiful, my dear, and that's it.  I always made a
+point of never having good-looking servants in the house, especially as
+there are young men about."
+
+"Aunt!"
+
+"Oh, yes, you may say `Aunt,' my dear, but you do not understand these
+things.  Good-looking servants always know it, and give themselves
+airs."
+
+"But this lady is not a servant, Aunt."
+
+"Don't talk nonsense, Isabel," said Aunt Anne tartly.  "She is a
+servant, and she is not a lady.  I can't help it, my dear; I don't like
+her at all, and I hope she will prove to be so dissatisfied, when she
+finds what she has to do, that she will want to go back to town at once.
+There's too much of the fine madam about her for me."
+
+"Sir Denton would not have sent down a person who was not quite
+suitable, Aunt," said Isabel gravely.  "If she nurses poor papa well
+that is all we want."
+
+"Yes, my dear, but will she?  There, I can't help it; I must speak
+plainly.  I am the least suspicious woman in the world, but I do not
+like a surprise like this being sprung upon us."
+
+"A surprise, Aunt?"
+
+"Yes.  Why did not Neil tell us what sort of a person this woman was
+going to be.  He knows her, of course.  You heard him call her by name."
+
+"Aunt, dear, of what are you thinking?" cried Isabel wonderingly, and
+giving her aunt a strangely perplexed look.
+
+"Oh, nothing, my dear.  There, I suppose I must see to her having some
+tea when she comes down.  She will have her meals with the servants of
+course."
+
+"Has Nurse Elisia come down yet?" said Neil, entering quickly.
+
+"No, my dear," said Aunt Anne, pinching her lips together.
+
+"You have given orders for refreshments to be brought up to her?"
+
+"Indeed no, my dear.  I was just going to ring and tell them to get
+something ready in the servants' hall."
+
+Neil's countenance changed.
+
+"No, no," he said harshly.
+
+"My dear Neil, she cannot have her meals with us."
+
+"I cannot see why not," he replied sternly.  "But she will not wish to
+leave her patient.  Have one of the dressing rooms set apart entirely
+for her use, and all her meals can be taken to her upstairs."
+
+Isabel looked at her brother in surprise, his manner seemed so changed.
+
+"Oh, very well, my dear," said Aunt Anne in an ill-used tone as she rose
+to ring the bell, but was forestalled by her nephew.  "I always thought
+when I came here that I was to take the entire management of this
+establishment, but your father always interfered, and now that he is
+helpless, I suppose you, as his eldest son--"
+
+"Why, dear Aunt," said Neil, "pray do not think that I wish to
+interfere, but you do not understand Nurse Elisia's position.  She is
+our principal lady nurse at the hospital, one in whom Sir Denton Hayle
+places every confidence, and whom he treats almost as a friend."
+
+"Oh, indeed!" said Aunt Anne.  "I was not aware.  Why did you not tell
+me before, my dear, who was coming down?"
+
+"For the simple reason that I did not know, Aunt," said Neil quietly.
+
+The footman, who had been waiting, signified his presence by a faint
+cough, received his orders, and left the room.
+
+About this time Alison, who had been seated alone in the little study,
+smoking and trying to read, suddenly threw the book one way, the end of
+his cigar another, and rose with a yawn.
+
+"Tired out and sleepy," he muttered.  "Last night to make up for."
+
+He seated himself on the table, and began swinging one leg about.
+
+"Wonder how the guv'nor is," he said to himself, "and I wonder what he
+would say if he had seen us this afternoon.  Those girls are giving
+themselves fine airs of their own.  Miss Dana is siding with her sister,
+I suppose because Neil is so careless.  I can't help it.  No fault of
+mine, and if she thinks I am going to be snubbed and treated just as she
+pleases, she is mistaken.  The money's all very well, but I'm not quite
+the easy-going fool she seems to think me.  Hang me, if I go for a ride
+with them again till I'm treated better."
+
+He gave his leg a sharp slap as a sudden thought struck him.
+
+"That's it!" he cried.  "I never thought of it before.  It's Master
+Burwood's doing.  That accounts for his being down home instead of in
+town.  He wouldn't hang about so much on account of our Isabel.  The
+governor's made all that too easy for him.  And they knew it, and
+there's a sort of an idea that it would be nice to be my lady.  Would
+it?  Well, I'm not so stupid as they think me, and people get checkmated
+sometimes in a way they little expect."
+
+He swung his leg about swiftly for a few moments, and then leaped off
+the table.
+
+"I'm going to bed," he muttered.  "Just see how the governor is as I go
+by, and--" he yawned--"oh, dear me! how sleepy I am."
+
+He went out into the hall, and then, after pausing to listen to the
+murmur of voices in the drawing room, he shook one hand.
+
+"Good-night, and bless you all," he said softly.  "That's old Neil's
+voice.  Look out, my lad, or you will lose the volatile Saxa.  I suppose
+Aunt is with the old man."
+
+He began to ascend the broad staircase very slowly, his steps being
+inaudible on the thick soft carpet, and he was about half way up when he
+became conscious of the soft rustle of a dress, and a faint glow of
+light passing along the gallery at the head of the stairs.
+
+He stopped short on the landing, half startled as, in the centre of that
+glow, and gradually coming nearer, he saw, standing out plainly from the
+surrounding darkness, a clearly cut white face, that looked for the
+moment almost unearthly; but as it came nearer and approached the head
+of the stairs the half startled feeling gave way to wonder, and then to
+admiration.
+
+"Who is she?  What does it mean?" he thought as he noted the eyes
+glistening in the light shed by the candle, and the quaint white
+headdress, the only part of the costume seen, the black gown being as it
+were absorbed by the darkness of the great staircase and landing.
+
+The figure came nearer and as she reached the top of the stairs began to
+descend, holding the candlestick so that it was between her and Alison,
+and hence she did not see him, where he stood on the landing half way
+down, till she was close upon him, when she stopped short and raised the
+light so that it fell upon his face, and they stood gazing at each
+other.
+
+Nurse Elisia was the first to speak, just as she became conscious of
+Alison's admiring look.
+
+"I beg pardon," she said, "would you kindly show me the way to the sick
+room."
+
+"The nurse?  You?" cried Alison eagerly.
+
+"Yes; I have just come down from town," she said quietly.
+
+"Yes, of course," said Alison eagerly.  "And you must be tired and
+faint.  Had any dinner?  Here, come with me, and I'll show you the way
+to the dining room."
+
+Nurse Elisia hesitated, and at that moment the drawing-room door opened,
+shedding a flood of light upon the portion of the staircase where they
+stood, and Neil Elthorne was conscious of a keen pang which for the
+moment he could not have explained.
+
+"Oh, there you are," cried Alison sharply.  "This lady does not know the
+way."
+
+Aunt Anne's lips tightened again as she stepped forward majestically.
+
+"Will you come this way, nurse, and I'll show you my brother's room,"
+she said; and her dress rustled loudly, as if partaking of its owner's
+agitation, while she crossed the hall and began to ascend the stairs.
+
+Nurse Elisia stood, candle in hand, waiting patiently and gazing at the
+plump elderly lady approaching her, in profound ignorance of the
+picturesque, striking aspect she presented as she held up the light
+whose rays illumined her features.
+
+"I really don't like her at all," said Aunt Anne to herself, as her brow
+furrowed.  "What a dreadful looking woman."  And the memory of certain
+words she had spoken to her niece only a short time back came vividly
+before her.  "I would a great deal rather it had been one of those
+old-fashioned stout nurses who did not wear white starched caps and
+black dresses, just as if they were playing at being nurses.  This way,
+please," she continued aloud.
+
+One minute the light shone strongly upon that white face; the next it
+seemed as if darkness had suddenly come over the scene and those in the
+hall were looking at two silhouettes moving up after a dull glow of
+light, to disappear through an archway; and then Neil Elthorne felt a
+pang of rage and misery shoot through him as, from the first landing of
+the broad staircase, he heard Alison exclaim aloud:
+
+"By George!"
+
+He descended then quickly to where Neil and Isabel were standing.
+
+"I say," he cried banteringly, "so that's the modern style of nurse.
+Neil, old chap, is there any room for me to walk your hospital?  I'm
+coming up to study medicine."
+
+Isabel looked curiously from one to the other in the semi-gloom; and, as
+she saw her elder brother's face, a feeling of dislike to the newcomer
+which she could not have analysed arose within her, and she started as
+she heard the deep, hoarse tones in which Neil spoke.
+
+"Is not this ribald style of talk out of place when our father is lying
+up yonder in so dangerous a state?"
+
+"Oh, rubbish!  He's getting better.  But I like your taste, I must say.
+Capital judge of nurses.  Neil's own selection, Bel."
+
+Neil turned upon him sharply, as if about to speak, but he compressed
+his lips and went to the foot of the stairs.
+
+"Going up?" said Alison laughingly.  "Come along, Isabel; we'll go, too.
+I want another look at our new nurse."
+
+Neil made an angry gesture.  "Isabel," he said hoarsely, "take no notice
+of him.  You had better not come up now."
+
+As he spoke he began to ascend, and Alison was silent till Neil reached
+the top.
+
+"Was that the doctor talking, or brother Neil?" he said sarcastically;
+but there was no reply, for the young surgeon had gone on slowly toward
+his father's chamber, with a strange, sickening feeling of misery and
+despair at his heart, as he felt that, in spite of all his resolutions,
+a bitter fight was commencing against fate, one which threatened to be
+complicated in a way that was horrible to contemplate.  For his
+brother's countenance, as he saw it for one brief moment when he was
+watching the figure on the stairs, had impressed him in a way which was
+startling, and as he reached the door, he stopped on the mat listening
+to a faint murmur, while his brow became furrowed and he muttered.
+
+"Am I so helpless?  Have I no will, and do I really love this woman
+after all?"
+
+He paused, gazing back along the passage to where he could see the dim
+reflection of the lamp in the hall, and as he stood there, the faintly
+heard voice of Nurse Elisia came once more to his ear.  He drew a long,
+deep breath, and then, half aloud:
+
+"I had not calculated on this," he thought.  "I fled from the
+temptation, and it has followed me here.  And she--she has never given
+me a second thought."  He turned the handle quickly, and entered the
+room.
+
+"Ah, that is right, Neil," said Aunt Anne.  "Will you stay here while I
+take nurse to have some supper?  She says she is not too tired to sit up
+to-night."
+
+"Absurd!" said Neil, in a low, harsh voice.  "After this long journey?
+Nurse, you will go with Mrs Barnett, and have some refreshment; then
+get to bed, and come and relieve me about seven."
+
+"But, my dear Neil, you, too, want rest," said Aunt Anne.
+
+"Aunt, be good enough not to interfere," replied Neil shortly.  "Nurse
+Elisia, you heard my orders."
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Oh, very well, my dear," said Aunt Anne, in an ill-used tone.  "I
+suppose you know best.  This way, nurse."
+
+Neil stood watching them as they left the room, and turned back toward
+the bed with a sigh of relief.
+
+"I have not lost my strength of mind, then, after all," he muttered, as
+he drew himself up.  "I will master it."
+
+There was a faint glow in his pale cheeks as he spoke, but it died out
+at once, leaving him haggard-looking and careworn, and his face grew set
+and his eyes dark as he stood gazing straight before him, seeing neither
+the bed nor the wall beyond, but the scene upon the stairs of the pale,
+white face lit up by the caudle, while, a short distance below, stood
+Alison, gazing up from the darkness.
+
+Neil shuddered, closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them
+again they fell upon the sleeping figure before him.  And as he looked
+down it was not with the eyes of man of science but of the son, thinking
+of his father's plans.  They had been children, and he had planned their
+education according to an eccentric whim of his own; youths, and he had
+principally chosen their career; they had reached manhood, and he had
+settled who were to be the companions of their lives.  And as he
+thought, the faces of Saxa Lydon and her sister, followed by Sir
+Cheltnam Burwood, floated out of the mental mist, and complication after
+complication arose.
+
+It was a dreary vigil, for Neil Elthorne was half worn out from broken
+nights and a long period of great anxiety, which had culminated in the
+arrival of the nurse; but not once through that long night did he feel
+the desire to sleep, and he could hardly realise the fact that it was
+morning, but stared and looked at her wildly when the door opened, and
+light shone in that was that of the morning sun, throwing up the pale,
+calm face of Nurse Elisia, who entered as if she were perfectly used to
+the place, and bearing for his special use a small tray, upon which were
+dry toast and tea.
+
+Neil rose as she entered, with a whispered "Good-morning," and he felt
+that he was trembling, and that he was only man, with all his
+weaknesses, in spite of his stubborn resolves.  But he was himself again
+directly, as she spoke.
+
+"The patient, sir," she whispered; "has he passed a quiet night?"
+
+"Yes, quite," said Neil.
+
+"May I open one of the windows--that farthest from the bed, sir?  The
+room is oppressive and faint."
+
+"Yes, yes; of course;" he said hastily, and he hurried out of the room.
+
+CHAPTER ELEVEN.
+
+AWKWARD ENCOUNTERS.
+
+"Oh, really, Sir Cheltnam, I would a great deal rather you waited till
+my brother is better," said Aunt Anne, who seemed rather concerned about
+the sit of a couple of folds in her dress.
+
+"Waited till he is better?" said the baronet, smiling.
+
+"Well, you know what I mean.  It is such an important thing that I
+really don't like to interfere."
+
+"I would not ask you but I cannot ask Mr Elthorne.  Wait?  Oh, yes; I
+should be willing to wait, only, with all due respect to you, my dear
+Mrs Barnett, is it not rather indefinite?"
+
+"Oh, dear me, I'm afraid so."
+
+"And time is going on.  You see, I do not want to be exacting, but I
+should like to find rather a warmer welcome when I come, and to be asked
+more frequently.  It is Mr Elthorne's wishes."
+
+"Yes, yes, of course; I know that.  But Isabel is very young."
+
+"It makes her the more attractive."
+
+"Well, I suppose so.  There, Sir Cheltnam, I'm a plain woman, and I'll
+speak out.  I'm afraid she has been thinking a good deal about Mr
+Beck."
+
+"Of course; but that is all over now.  Mr Elthorne did not approve of
+it, and when I spoke to him, he told me that it was one of the great
+desires of his heart.  Then came that terrible accident, and since then,
+you see, I have been quite left out in the cold.  Come, now, Mrs
+Barnett, I do not wish to puff myself, but you must own that I can offer
+her everything that will insure her a happy future."
+
+"Oh, yes; I know all that," said Aunt Anne.  "Then play the part of
+friend to us both."
+
+"What can I do?"
+
+"A thousand things that a clever diplomatic woman, like yourself, can
+contrive admirably.  Of course I know all about the Beck business, and
+what did I do?  Show annoyance?  Not a bit.  I said, `It is a young
+girl's first fancy, but one that she will soon forget.  I'll wait;' and
+I have waited, but now it is time I was recognised a little by the young
+lady."
+
+"But her time is so taken up with attending to her father."
+
+"No, Mrs Barnett; I say little, but I see much.  The nurse takes all
+that off her shoulders I believe."
+
+"Oh, yes, very attentive, and that sort of thing; but I shall be very
+glad when she is gone."
+
+"Naturally.  But come, now--you will help me?"
+
+"Well, well; I'll do all I can."
+
+"I knew you would.  Give me more of a _carte blanche_ to come and go."
+
+"But you are here a great deal now."
+
+"Yes, as a formal visitor.  Come, now, Mrs Barnett; if this were
+another establishment, and you a stranger and saw me here from time to
+time, would you ever imagine that dear Isabel and I were engaged?"
+
+"Well--er--no."
+
+"Of course you would not.  There, I need not say any more; I am quite
+satisfied.  Is she with her father now?"
+
+"No; I think she is down the garden."
+
+Sir Cheltnam smiled, bent forward, took and kissed the lady's hand.
+
+"Thank you," he said, with a meaning smile; and he rose from the lounge
+in the drawing room where the above conversation had taken place, and
+turned toward the French window which opened out upon the lawn.
+
+"No, no, really, Sir Cheltnam.  I did not mean that."
+
+"My dear Mrs Barnett--"
+
+"Oh, very well; I suppose it's quite right.  It was her father's wish."
+
+"And yours, I am sure," he said, nodding meaningly as he reached the
+window and passed out.
+
+"I hope I've done right," said Aunt Anne; "but Ralph is so strange, he
+may find fault.  I'll go up and talk to him, and gradually introduce the
+subject."
+
+Her countenance brightened, as she thought of this way out of a
+difficulty, and rising and smoothing her stiff silk dress, whose
+rustling she liked to hear, she went out into the hall, and began slowly
+to ascend the stairs.
+
+"It is very trying to me," she said to herself.  "Isabel does not seem
+to care for him a bit; and as to the two Lydon girls, really if any
+gentleman had behaved so cavalierly to me as Neil and Alison do to them,
+I certainly should not have put up with it."  She paused for awhile
+rather breathlessly at the top of the stairs, and then went on to her
+brother's room and turned the handle, but the door was evidently bolted
+inside.
+
+For the moment she seemed surprised, but she went on toward the next
+door, that of the dressing room attached, but, as she reached it, this
+door was opened, and the nurse appeared, to step out into the corridor,
+and close the door behind her.
+
+"Did you try the other door, ma'am?" she said softly.
+
+"Yes; it is bolted.  Never mind; I'll go through here."
+
+"Not now, ma'am," said the nurse quickly, and in a voice hardly above a
+whisper; but there was plenty of decision in her tones.
+
+"Not now?" said Aunt Anne haughtily.  "My good woman, what do you mean?"
+
+"Mr Elthorne has dropped asleep, ma'am."
+
+"Well, I'll go in and sit with him till he wakes."
+
+"Excuse me, madam," said Nurse Elisia, barring the way; "he must not be
+disturbed."
+
+"My good woman!" cried Aunt Anne again, ruffling up at anyone daring to
+interfere with her in that house, "I am not going to disturb him.
+Surely I know perfectly how to behave to a sick person."
+
+"Of course, ma'am," said the nurse quietly, "and I am sorry to have to
+interfere."
+
+"As you should be," said Aunt Anne tartly.  "Have the goodness to stand
+on one side."
+
+"I beg your pardon, madam," said the nurse gently, "you are placing me
+in a very awkward position, and I grieve to oppose you in your wishes,
+but I must obey my instruction from Mr Neil Elthorne.  They were that I
+was to particularly guard against the patient's being disturbed when he
+was asleep."
+
+"And very proper instructions too; but say Mr Elthorne, Nurse Elisia,
+and not `the patient.'  This is not a hospital."
+
+The nurse bowed.
+
+"I am sure my nephew did not intend that such instructions as these were
+to apply to me."
+
+"To everybody, madam.  Sleep is of such vital importance to the--Mr
+Elthorne in his present state, and he has so much difficulty in
+obtaining rest, especially at night, that even an hour's natural sleep
+is most desirable."
+
+"Well, of course, I understand all that," said Aunt Anne, "and I shall
+take care that I do not make a sound."
+
+She stepped forward, but the nurse did not stir.
+
+"Will you have the goodness to move," said Aunt Anne, in the most frigid
+of tones.
+
+"Pray forgive me, madam.  I must carry out my orders."
+
+"I have told you, my good woman, that they do not apply to me.  Will you
+be good enough to stand aside?"
+
+A faint colour appeared in the nurse's cheeks, but she did not move.
+
+"Did you hear what I said?" cried Aunt Anne haughtily.
+
+"Yes, madam, and again I ask your pardon," said the nurse gently.
+"Excuse me, pray, but you are placing me in a very painful position."
+
+"Then stand aside," said Aunt Anne, who was growing very red in the
+face, consequent on being opposed.  "Do you hear me, woman?"
+
+"Yes, madam, but I must obey Mr Elthorne.  A nurse dare not depart from
+the doctor's instructions.  Even a slight lapse might mean a serious
+injury to the patient in her charge."
+
+"I will take all the responsibility," said Aunt Anne haughtily.  "Have
+the goodness to allow me to pass."
+
+Nurse Elisia's eyes dropped, and there was a faint twitching at the
+corners of her eyes, but she did not stir.
+
+"Are you aware that the mistress of this household is speaking to you?"
+
+"Hush, madam, pray!"
+
+"Oh, it is insufferable," cried Aunt Anne, whose anger was rising fast,
+when she saw a quick, eager look of satisfaction animate the pale set
+face before her, and at that moment a familiar voice said in a low tone:
+
+"What is the matter, Aunt?"
+
+"Ah, my dear," she cried; "you are there.  I am glad.  I declare it is
+insufferable.  I was going in to sit by your father and talk to him."
+
+"I told Mrs Barnett, sir, that Mr Elthorne was asleep."
+
+"Yes, my good woman," said Aunt Anne, "and I told you I should go in and
+sit with him till he awoke.  And, then, really it is insufferable for a
+hired servant to take so much upon herself."
+
+"As what, Aunt?" said Neil, in a low, stern voice, "as to refuse to
+allow you to go in?"
+
+"Yes, my dear.  I can put up with a great deal, but I think it is quite
+time that the nurse knew that this is not a hospital ward, and that she
+is not mistress here."
+
+"Nurse Elisia is quite aware of that," said Neil coldly; and his lips
+quivered slightly, as he saw that in spite of her apparent immobility,
+she was watching him curiously as if wondering what he would say; but he
+went on in the same cold, passionless way, "It is not a question of
+mistress or hired servant, but of care of my patient's progress toward
+recovery.  I gave instructions that my father should never be in the
+slightest degree disturbed when he dropped into a natural sleep, and the
+nurse has done her duty and nothing more.  Come away now, please, and
+you will see this in the proper light, if you will give it a moment's
+thought."
+
+Aunt Anne gave her hands a kind of wave as if she were smoothing out a
+cloth over a table, and turning suddenly, walked with stately strides
+toward the head of the stairs, followed by her nephew, who did not even
+glance at Nurse Elisia, neither did he speak again till the drawing room
+was reached.
+
+"The nurse was quite right, Aunt," he said quietly.  "You must see that
+an attendant who did not carry out one's instructions to the letter
+would be untrustworthy."
+
+"Pray say no more about it, Neil," she replied, with a great show of
+dignity.  "I suppose I am growing old and useless.  But there was a time
+when my opinion was of value in a sick chamber."
+
+"Yes, of course, my dear Aunt, but this is a case where the patient must
+be kept perfectly quiet."
+
+"Yes, that is it, Neil.  You have become so absorbed in your studies as
+a surgeon that you seem to forget that my poor dear brother is your
+father."
+
+"Nonsense, Aunt, dear."
+
+"Oh, no, sir, it is the truth.  I suppose I shall be looked upon as a
+patient next."
+
+"Yes; as my dear loving patient Aunt," said Neil, smiling.  "There,
+don't take any more notice of it.  Good-bye.  Come, come, don't look at
+me like that.  It brings back one of your old scoldings when I was a
+boy."
+
+He kissed her and went out of the room.
+
+"But I don't like it," said Aunt Anne, "and I am not one to be deceived.
+I disliked that woman from the hour she entered the house.  I had my
+forebodings then, and they grow firmer every day.  He took her part
+directly.  Why, Isabel, my dear, I thought you were down the garden,"
+she cried, as her niece entered the room.
+
+"I?  No, Aunt.  I just went to get a few flowers for papa, and I wanted
+to take them and arrange them in his room, but Nurse Elisia keeps watch
+there like a dragon, and would not let me go in."
+
+"Why, she would not even let me go in," cried Aunt Anne with great
+emphasis on the first personal pronoun.
+
+"Wouldn't she, Aunt?"
+
+"No, my dear, and I shall bless the day when that woman goes.  She is
+not what she appears."
+
+"Isn't she, Aunt?"
+
+"No, my dear."
+
+"I've thought something of that kind," said Isabel dreamily.  "She seems
+so much of the lady, and as if she quite looked down upon me, as being
+superior to us."
+
+"Yes, my dear, and it makes my blood boil at times."
+
+"Oh, I don't mean like that, Aunt, dear, for she is always gentle and
+kind and respectful too."
+
+"No, my dear, no," cried Aunt Anne emphatically, "not to me.  There,
+never mind that now, for I've something else to say.  Did you see Sir
+Cheltnam down the garden?"
+
+"Sir Cheltnam!" cried Isabel, changing colour.  "Is he here?"
+
+"Yes, my dear, and I told him you were down the garden."
+
+"Aunt!  Oh, you should not have told him that.  Is he there now?"
+
+"I presume that he is, and really my dear child, I see no reason why you
+should be so disturbed.  Of course a little maidenly diffidence is nice
+and becoming and--good gracious! child, don't run away like that."
+
+But Isabel had reached the door and darted out, for, through the window
+came the faint _crunch, crunch_, of manly steps upon the gravel.
+
+For, naturally enough, Sir Cheltnam's quest had been in vain, as far as
+Isabel was concerned, but after looking about the lawn he had caught
+sight of someone seated beneath the drooping ash at one corner, and in
+the hope that it was she whom he sought, he had walked silently across
+the velvet grass to find that the heavy leafy screen was deceptive and
+that it was Alison leaning back in a garden-chair.
+
+"Oh, it's you," he said, as he pulled aside the pendent boughs.
+
+"Yes.  Who did you think it was?" replied Alison surlily.
+
+"Your sister.  Is she always going to play hide-and-seek with me like
+this?"
+
+"Like what?  How should I know?"
+
+"Look here, young fellow," cried Sir Cheltnam; "what's come to you these
+last three weeks?"
+
+"Nothing."
+
+"Bah!  I'm not blind.  There's something the matter.  It isn't filial
+affection and grief, because the old man's getting better.  It isn't
+love, because the fair Dana is pining for you on horseback somewhere.
+There is only one other grief can befall a hale, hearty young man; so
+it's money."
+
+"Nonsense!"
+
+"Must be, and if so, my dear boy, come in a brotherly way to me for
+help, and it is yours, either with a check of my own or somebody else's
+in the city."
+
+"It isn't money," said Alison shortly.  "I've as much as I want."
+
+"My dear Alison Elthorne," cried Sir Cheltnam, grasping his hand, "that
+will do.  You must stop now.  You can go no farther.  A young man of
+your years, appearance, and pursuits who can say that he has as much
+money as he wants, is a paragon, a _rara avis in terris_, a perfect
+model."
+
+"Don't fool."
+
+"I am not fooling, but speaking in sober earnest.  My dear boy, you must
+be photographed, painted, modelled, sculptured, and, hang it all, my
+dear Alison, you will have to be put in Madame Tussaud's."
+
+"Then it will be in the Chamber of Horrors for killing you," said Alison
+fiercely.  "I'm not in a humour to be played with, so leave off."
+
+"Then if it is not money, it's love," said Sir Cheltnam.  "I've done, my
+dear boy; but tell me where your sister is."
+
+"I don't know."
+
+"Or won't know," said Sir Cheltnam.  "Never mind.  You will be better
+soon, and then apologetic."  Alison made no answer, and Sir Cheltnam
+walked slowly away.
+
+"Sulky cub!" he muttered.  "What's the matter with him?  Quarrelled with
+Dana perhaps, and she is leading him a life.  Well, she is quite capable
+of doing it, and her sister will keep a pretty tight curb on Neil.  I
+shall have a nice set of brothers and sisters-in-law when it comes off.
+Well, I don't know that it much matters.  I am quite capable of keeping
+a watch over my own front door."
+
+CHAPTER TWELVE.
+
+MARIA IS VENOMOUS.
+
+"Come in," said Aunt Anne, in response to a knock, and Maria Bell
+entered, to stand for a moment watching while a few entries were made
+diligently in the housekeeping book.  Then Aunt Anne raised her head and
+coughed, a signal which Maria knew of old as premonitor of a scolding,
+and, to ward it off, struck first.
+
+"Oh, much better, ma'am, thank you," she said hastily; "and it's very
+kind of you to ask.  I'm getting as strong as I was before I went to the
+hospital, and I think the wine you gave me has done me a deal of good.
+I hope master's much better this morning, ma'am."
+
+"Yes; your master is much better, Maria."
+
+"I'm very glad, ma'am, for more reasons than one."  Aunt Anne had made
+up and rehearsed a speech relative to the neglect of certain duties, now
+that Maria was back, and that though she had been ill, and allowances
+would be made and she would still be well cared for, she was not to
+expect that she was to lead a life of idleness, especially as there was
+now an invalid permanently in the house.  But Maria's manner and that
+addition or qualifying of her joy at her master's improvement, quite
+drove the admonitory remarks out of her head by exciting curiosity.
+
+"Eh?" she exclaimed, "for more reasons than one, Maria?  What do you
+mean by that?"
+
+"Oh, nothing, ma'am," said the woman, tightening her lips, and taking up
+the hem of her apron to arrange in plaits.
+
+"Maria, you know, and have known for years, how I hate and detest
+mystery.  I desire that you tell me what you mean."
+
+"Nothing at all, ma'am, indeed.  I really--that is--I am very glad that
+master is better--that's all."
+
+"That is not all, Maria.  I despise hints, as you well know."
+
+"Really, ma'am, there is nothing."
+
+"Maria, you cannot deceive me.  I can read you perfectly.  You have some
+reason for that innuendo and after all I have done for you and that Mr
+Neil has done for you, I consider that you are acting very ungratefully
+by this reserve."
+
+Maria began to cry.
+
+"It--it--it wasn't from ungratefulness ma'am, I'm sure, for I'm bubbling
+over with gratitude to you and Mr Neil, and it was all on account of
+him that I spoke as I did."
+
+"Now, Maria, what do you mean?" cried Aunt Anne, for the spark ignited
+upon her tinder-like nature was rapidly beginning to glow.
+
+"Please, please, don't ask me, ma'am," said Maria, with sobs.  "I would
+not make mischief in a house for worlds."
+
+"Nobody asks you to make mischief, Maria; but if you have seen
+peculations, or matters connected with the housekeeping going wrong
+during your master's illness, it is your duty to speak."
+
+"Yes, ma'am, but it wasn't anything of that sort."
+
+"Then what was it?" said Aunt Anne judicially.  "And I'd be the last to
+speak, ma'am, knowing how valuable a character is to a poor person; and
+well I know how easy it is to make mistakes and be deceived, especially
+about such matters as that."
+
+"Maria, I insist.  Why do you wish your master to be better?"
+
+"Oh, of course, I want to see him quite well, ma'am, for though a bit
+'arsh, a better master--"
+
+"What other reason, Maria?"
+
+"Well, ma'am, if I must speak, it is because I shall be glad when
+master's down again, and nurse is gone."
+
+"Nurse?  Stop a moment.  She attended you at the hospital?"
+
+"Oh, yes, ma'am," said Maria, in a peculiar tone, which suggested
+neglect, ill-treatment, and all kinds of unfeminine behaviour; "she
+attended me.  I was in her ward."
+
+"Well?"
+
+"Oh, that's all, ma'am."
+
+"It is not all, Maria, and I desire that you speak."
+
+"I don't like to see a woman like that attending master."
+
+"It was the doctor's orders, Maria."
+
+"So I s'pose, ma'am.  I heard that Sir Denton sent her down.  He thinks
+a deal of her.  You see he's a very old gentleman, ma'am, and she
+flatters him, and makes believe to be very attentive, and she was always
+just the same to Mr Neil, ma'am.  I was a-lying there in pain and
+suffering and affliction sore, but I couldn't help using my eyes, and I
+saw a great deal."
+
+"Maria!"
+
+"Oh, it's a fact, ma'am, and if I'd gone on as she did talking to the
+young doctors, I should never have expected to keep no place; but of
+course a head nurse is different to a hupper 'ousemaid."
+
+"That will do, Maria," said Aunt Anne.  "I cannot listen to such
+scandalous tattle.  I have no doubt about its being all imagination on
+your part."
+
+"I only wish it was, ma'am, I'm sure."
+
+"It's only a temporary arrangement, of course; and now, I wanted to
+speak to you about several little pieces of neglect I have observed that
+must not occur again.  I know you have been ill, but it is quite time
+that you were a little more attentive, especially as we are about to
+have company."
+
+"Company, ma'am?"
+
+"Yes; the Miss Lydons will be here to dinner on Friday, and they will
+stay the night, so I desire that their rooms are properly prepared
+before they come, and of course, as they will not bring their maid you
+will wait upon them."
+
+"Yes, ma'am; I'll do my very best, and I hope--"
+
+"That will do, Maria."
+
+"But there was one thing I should like to tell you, ma'am."
+
+Aunt Anne was burning with curiosity, but she raised her hand.
+
+"Not another word, Maria.  You know I never listen to the servants'
+tattle.  Now go about your work."
+
+"I 'ate her," muttered Maria, as soon as she was in the hall, which she
+crossed so as to get to the back stairs; "and if I haven't put a spoke
+in her wheel this time my name isn't what it is."
+
+Maria tightened her lips as if to condense her spleen against the
+patient, long-suffering woman who had had the misfortune to incur her
+dislike.
+
+"A thing like her!" she continued muttering.  "A beggarly nurse, with
+not so much as a box of her own to bring down when she comes into a
+gentleman's house, and giving herself airs as if she was a lady.  Oh,
+dear me, and indeed!  Couldn't stoop to talk to a poor girl as if she
+was a fellow-creature, at the hospital; and down here, lor' bless us!
+anyone would think she was a duchess up in the skies instead of a common
+hospital nurse.  Oh, I do 'ate pride, and if it wasn't that it do have a
+fall there'd be no living with such people."
+
+Maria was not very strong yet, and she stopped short--as she expressed
+it to herself, with her heart in her mouth--and turned red and then pale
+on hearing a faint rustle behind her, and the nurse's low sympathetic
+voice accosting her.
+
+"Ah, Maria, are you better this morning?"
+
+"Oh, yes, thank you, ma'am, much better."
+
+There was a tremendous emphasis on the "ma'am," suggestive of keen and
+subtle sarcasm, and the revolt of honest humility against assumption.
+
+"I am very glad," said the nurse gently.  "Mrs Barnett said that there
+were several little things you might do now in Mr Elthorne's room."
+
+Maria's face turned scarlet, and she faced round viciously.
+
+"Then it was you, was it, who complained to her that I didn't do my work
+properly?"
+
+"I, my good girl?" said Nurse Elisia, smiling.  "Oh, no."
+
+"It must have been.  Nobody else wouldn't have been so mean as to go
+telling tales."
+
+"You are making a great mistake, Maria," said the nurse, with quiet
+dignity.  "I certainly asked Mrs Barnett about a few things being done
+in your master's room, and she referred me to you."
+
+"I don't want you to come here teaching me my work."
+
+"Oh, no, I will not interfere, Maria," said the nurse coldly; "but it is
+necessary that the room should be seen to."
+
+"Thank you, ma'am; as if I didn't know what a 'ousemaid's work is.  Oh,
+I haven't patience with such mean, tale-bearing, stuck-up ways."
+
+The nurse looked at her in a pained way, and for a few moments there was
+a slight flash of resentment in her face; but it died out directly, and
+she spoke very gently:
+
+"You are making a mistake, Maria."
+
+"Don't `Maria' me, please--ma'am," cried the housemaid; and that "ma'am"
+was tremendous.
+
+"Stop," said the nurse, gently and firmly, and her eyes seemed to
+fascinate the woman, as a hand was laid upon her arm.  "You have passed
+through a very trying ordeal lately, and it has affected your nervous
+system.  You must not give way to an angry, hysterical fit like this.
+It is dangerous in your state."
+
+"Oh, don't you begin to `my lady' it over me."  Nurse Elisia changed
+colour a little, and darted a penetrating look at the speaker, but her
+countenance resumed its old calm directly, and she went on firmly.
+
+"Take my advice, Maria; now do as I tell you.  Never mind about the
+work--I will do what is necessary myself.  Go up to your bedroom and lie
+down for an hour, till you have grown calm and cool."
+
+"I shan't," cried Maria, with the passionate utterance of an angry
+child; "and I won't stop in a house where--where,"--there was a
+hysterical outburst of sobbing here--"such goings on--and I'll take my
+month."
+
+"Let me take you up to your room."
+
+"No, no!  I won't go.  I--oh, oh, oh!"
+
+But the strong will prevailed over the weak, and Maria suffered herself
+to be led along the corridor till, a figure approaching at the end, she
+cried spitefully through her sobs: "Of course, I know.  To get me out of
+the way.  Oh, I'm not blind."
+
+Nurse Elisia's hand fell from the woman's arm as if it had been a
+gymnotus, and there was an indignant look in her eyes as they met Neil
+Elthorne's searchingly, in fear lest he had heard the malignant
+utterance.
+
+"What is the matter?" he said.  "Why, Maria, I thought you were so much
+better."
+
+"It is a little hysterical attack," said the nurse quietly.  "I was
+advising her to go and lie down, sir."
+
+"Yes, of course," said Neil quickly, as he caught the woman's wrist.
+"Go and lie down at once.  You must not give way to that sort of thing,
+Maria.  You are not quite yourself yet."
+
+"I--I'm better, now, sir," she said, as she struggled for the mastery
+over herself.  "No, thank you!  I can go by myself."
+
+"Oh, yes," she muttered, as she glanced back on reaching the swing-door
+at the end of the corridor.  "I'm not blind.  A nice creature!--and him
+to go on like that.  But I've not done yet."
+
+CHAPTER THIRTEEN.
+
+AUNT ANNE'S RESOLUTIONS.
+
+Aunt Anne would not, she said, listen to Maria's tattle, but the woman's
+words went home.
+
+"I suspected it," she said to herself, "and go she shall before matters
+are worse.  It is always the way with these quiet, artful women."
+
+So she took up her pen to write to Sir Denton Hayle, but she did not
+begin, for it occurred to her that if she did write and ask him to
+recall the nurse, he would immediately communicate with Neil to ask for
+an explanation, and whether Nurse Elisia had neglected her duties.
+
+"And that's the worst of it," said Aunt Anne to herself, "she never has,
+but has done wonders for poor Ralph."
+
+Then it occurred to her also that, though Neil was only her nephew, he
+was fast rising into the position of an eminent surgeon, and that in
+such a case as this she would not have dared to interfere if he had been
+someone else.
+
+"Oh, dear me!" she said pettishly, "it's very dreadful.  Women always
+were at the bottom of all the mischief in the world.  I've suspected it;
+Neil has been so changed, and so has Alison.  It seems monstrous, but as
+sure as I'm a living woman she has managed to attract them both, and it
+must be stopped or do one knows what mischief will happen.  Why, those
+two might quarrel dreadfully, and then-Oh, dear me, I'm very glad Saxa
+and Dana are coming.  They will be the real cure for the trouble after
+all."
+
+She took up her pen again, but only to throw it back on to the silver
+tray.
+
+"No; I mustn't write.  Stop, I know; I'll go in and sit with Ralph this
+afternoon, and quietly work round to the point of the nurse leaving now.
+Isabel and I could do everything he requires."
+
+"No," she cried, with her face full of perplexity, "he would only fly in
+a passion and abuse me for interfering, and insist upon keeping her
+twice as long, and if I told him what I thought about Neil and Alison it
+would enrage him so that he would have some terrible relapse.  Oh, dear
+me!  I don't know what Nature could have been about to make a nurse with
+a face and a soft, cooing voice like that woman's.  Bless me!" she cried
+aloud.  "Neil, you shouldn't make me jump like that."
+
+"Didn't you hear me come in, Aunt?"
+
+"No, my dear, and I am so nervous.  It came on when your father had his
+accident."
+
+"Oh, that will soon go off.  I've just had a message from Sir Denton."
+
+"To say that we need not keep the nurse any longer, and that he wants
+her back at the hospital?"
+
+"No, Aunt, dear, in response to a letter of mine written days ago," said
+Neil, looking at her curiously.
+
+"What about, then?"
+
+"To say that he is on his way down here to see my father again, and give
+me his opinion about the progress made."
+
+"But, Neil, my dear, you should not ask people like that.  The Lydon
+girls are coming, and I cannot ask one of them to give up her room, and
+I'm sure Sir Denton wouldn't like mine, looking out toward the stables,
+though you can't see them."
+
+"Don't trouble yourself, Aunt, dear.  He will not stay.  He will come
+down by one train, spend an hour here, and go back to town at once.  I
+want his indorsement of my ideas respecting a change of treatment."
+
+"Oh, if that is the case, then I need not worry."
+
+"Not in the least, Aunt.  Only see that the lunch is kept back."
+
+"Of course, my dear.  I am relieved.  For it would have been awkward
+with those girls here."
+
+"They are coming, then?" said Neil absently.  "Why, you know they are
+coming, dear.  Really, Neil, I shall be very glad when you are married--
+and Alison, too, if it comes to that."
+
+Neil looked at her searchingly, but his aunt's face was perfectly calm--
+placid to a degree--though all the while she was congratulating herself
+upon the subtlety and depth of her nature in introducing the subject so
+cleverly.
+
+"And why, pray?" he said coldly.
+
+"Because you want something else to think about besides cutting off
+people's arms and legs.  I declare you are quite growing into a dreamy,
+thoughtful old man.  If I were Saxa Lydon I should take you to task
+finely about your carelessness and neglect.  I declare I've felt quite
+ashamed of you."
+
+He looked at her sadly.
+
+"I'm afraid I am anything but a model young man, Auntie."
+
+"Indeed you are, sir, and it's quite time you mended.  I don't know what
+your father will say to you when he gets better.  It is one of his pet
+projects, you know.  Fortunately, Saxa is not like most girls."
+
+"No," he said aloud, unintentionally.  "Saxa is not like most girls."
+
+"Then do, pray, make haste and get your father well and the nurse out of
+the house."
+
+"Why are you in such a hurry to get the nurse out of the house, Aunt?"
+
+"My dear!  What a question!  I declare, Neil, you revel in sick rooms,
+and in having nurses near you.  This is not a hospital.  Of course I
+want to see the nurse gone, and your father about again."
+
+Neil frowned, and his aunt saw it.  She added hastily:
+
+"Not that I have a word to say against Nurse Elisia.  I'm sure her
+attention to your poor father deserves all praise."
+
+"God bless her! yes," said Neil, in a low, grave tone.  "She has saved
+his life."
+
+"Oh, no, my dear; I am not going so far as that," said Aunt Anne in
+alarm, so earnest was her nephew's utterance.  "Nurses are not doctors."
+
+"But they often do far more for the patients, Aunt."
+
+"Do they, my dear?  Oh, well, I dare say you are right."
+
+"Yes, I am right," he said dreamily, and he turned and left the room,
+unaware of the fact that Aunt Anne was watching him intently.
+
+"Oh, dear me!  Oh, dear me!" she said to herself, "what a tone of voice!
+He is thinking about her.  There is no doubt about it, but he is sorry
+and repentant.  I can read him like a book.  Yes; he is sorry.  My words
+brought him back to a sense of duty, and he will be as nice as can be to
+Saxa in future.  I'm sure I could not have spoken better.  It is a great
+advantage--experience, and a good knowledge of human nature.  Now that
+boy--well, he always was the dearest and best of boys, and if he had
+been my own I couldn't have thought more of him--that boy knows he has
+been doing wrong in letting himself be attracted by a pretty face, and
+my words have thoroughly brought him round.  Maria was quite right, and
+I must talk to Alison too, and--yes, I will; I'll manage to have a chat
+with Sir Denton and beg him as a great favour to let me finish nursing
+my brother.  I will not say a word about the nurse.  Dear me! what am I
+thinking about?  I quite forgot to tell them we would lunch at half-past
+two."
+
+Aunt Anne got up and rang the bell.
+
+CHAPTER FOURTEEN.
+
+A SUSPICIOUS PATIENT.
+
+There is plenty of food for the student in the dispositions of the sick,
+and the way they bear their pains.
+
+Ralph Elthorne's was an exceptional case, and his moods were many.  The
+principal feeling with him, in the intervals when he was free from pain,
+was one of irritation against fate for selecting him to bear all this
+trouble and discomfort.  Illness had been so rare with him that at times
+he found it hard to realise the fact that he was lying there, utterly
+helpless and forced to depend upon those about him for everything, the
+result being that he was about as petulant and restless a patient as
+could be well imagined.  In addition, he grew day by day more and more
+suspicious, lying and watching every look and act of those about him,
+ready to distort the most trifling things, and fancy that they were all
+part and parcel of some deeply laid scheme which was to interfere with
+his peace of mind and tend to his utter dethronement from the old
+position he had held so long.
+
+On this particular morning he had been lying placidly enough, chatting
+with his son, while Nurse Elisia was in attendance, till Neil, feeling
+that the time had now come for his father to be prepared, let drop a few
+words about Sir Denton's visit.
+
+The change was almost startling.  There was a wildly eager, excited look
+in his eyes, and suspicion in the tone of his voice, as he exclaimed:
+
+"Coming down?  Sir Denton?  For what reason?  Quick!  Tell me why?"
+
+He caught his son's wrist, and his long thin fingers gripped it firmly
+as his troubled face, about which the grey hair was growing long since
+his illness, was turned searchingly to his son.
+
+"Don't take it like that, my dear father," said Neil, smiling.  "It is
+not the first time we have had him to see you."
+
+"No, no!  I know all that; but why, why is he coming?"
+
+"I asked him to come down, sir, that is all."
+
+"Ah! you asked him to come down.  Why, why was I not told?"
+
+"For the reason you are showing," replied Neil quietly.  "I was afraid
+that if you knew you might agitate yourself, and fill your brain with
+fancies about your state."
+
+"So would any sick man," cried Elthorne sharply.  "And that is not all.
+You are keeping a great deal from me in your false wisdom.  But you
+cannot hide it from one who knows intuitively what changes take place in
+him.  I can see and feel it all.  I am worse."
+
+"My dear sir, no," said Neil, smiling.
+
+"Don't contradict me, boy," cried his father fiercely.  "Surely I ought
+to know from my own sensations.  I am far worse, and you have sent for
+Sir Denton because you have reached the end of your teachings, and feel
+helpless to do any more."
+
+"You do not give me much credit, father," said Neil, smiling.
+
+"Yes, yes, I do, boy, a great deal," said the old man excitedly.  "Then
+it has come to this at last."
+
+"My dear father, that is what I feared, or I should have spoken to you
+sooner.  I assure you that you have no cause for alarm."
+
+"Words, words, words," cried Mr Elthorne piteously.  "The case is
+absolutely hopeless.  You know it, and so you have sent for Sir Denton
+again."
+
+"My dear father," began Neil, taking his hand.  "Be silent sir," cried
+the old man fiercely, "and let me speak."
+
+"Then, my dear patient," said Neil, "I must insist upon your listening
+to me calmly and patiently;" but Mr Elthorne paid no heed and went on.
+
+"I'm not going to blame you, boy, I suppose you have done your best,
+everything that you have been taught."
+
+Elisia glanced at Neil in spite of herself, and it was a commiserating
+look, but a feeling of elation ran through her as she saw his calm,
+patient, pitying look as she quitted the room.
+
+"Indeed I have done everything possible, father," he said quietly.
+
+"Yes, yes; all you knew, boy; all you knew."
+
+"And I have been able to do more perhaps than a surgeon who visited you
+would have achieved, through always being on the spot."
+
+"But your knowledge is limited, of course, boy."
+
+"Yes, I am afraid so," replied Neil sadly.
+
+"I'm not blaming you.  Very patient with me, my boy.  So has she been.
+Nurse!" he called.  "Nurse!"
+
+He turned his head a little so as to look over the back of the couch,
+for he had not seen that they were alone; and then, as he strained his
+neck a little to fix his eyes upon the door which communicated with the
+dressing room, it was painful to see the state of utter helplessness to
+which the strong man had been reduced.  He could move his hands and
+arms, but the complete want of power elsewhere was so apparent to
+himself now that he uttered a groan of despair, and looked back
+imploringly at his son.
+
+"What had I done?" he muttered.  "What had I done?"
+
+"My dear father," whispered Neil; but the old man turned from him again
+impatiently.
+
+"Nurse," he cried, "nurse!" and he beat, with a stick that was ready to
+his hand, impatiently upon the floor.
+
+"I will go for her," said Neil eagerly; but there was no need.  Nurse
+Elisia had faithfully devoted herself to the service of her patient; his
+call had been heard, and she came in quickly and silently, to glide
+toward the couch, her eyes the while scanning the sufferer
+questioningly, as if asking what had occurred to cause the summons.
+
+"There is nothing wrong, nurse," Neil felt moved to say, as he saw the
+questioning look.
+
+"What?" cried Mr Elthorne, turning his eyes fiercely upon his son.
+"There is, nurse, and that is why I summoned you.  Look here, Neil; my
+body may be half dead, but my head is clear.  I am not imbecile yet, and
+I will not be treated like a child.  It is hard, very hard, that even
+one's own son sinks his relationship in the professional man, and
+forgets that he is dealing with his father, who has become to him only a
+patient."
+
+"My dear father!" cried Neil, smiling, "are you not a little hard on
+me?"
+
+"No, no!" cried the old man irritably.  "You are deceiving me, for my
+good as you call it, and as you owned a little while back."
+
+"Indeed, no," said Neil quietly.  "I only owned to keeping back the fact
+that Sir Denton was coming down till the morning of his visit, so as to
+save you from brooding over it and getting anxious."
+
+"Well, what is that but deceiving me as I say, and treating me as a
+child?"
+
+"Surely not, my dear father."
+
+"I say it is, and it is cruel.  I want to trust you, but you all, even
+to Isabel, join in cheating me, for my good as you are pleased to call
+it."
+
+Neil glanced at the nurse, who met his eyes, but, quick as lightning the
+sick man raised his hand, half menacingly, at his son.
+
+"Hah!" he cried, "don't try to corrupt her, and induce her to join your
+conspiracy; I can read your looks--`Don't contradict him.'  She is
+honest; I can trust her.  You will tell me the simple truth, nurse, will
+you not?" he said, holding one hand over the back of the couch toward
+her.
+
+She stepped nearer, and took the extended hand.  "Indeed, I will, sir,"
+she said gently; and then, with a smile, "unless, sir, I were
+forbidden."
+
+"What?" he cried, withdrawing his hand.
+
+"There might be a crisis in your illness when your medical adviser felt
+it was absolutely necessary, for your own sake, to keep back something
+of your state."
+
+"Hah!" he cried bitterly, "all alike--all alike.  I thought I could
+trust you."
+
+"You can trust me, sir, to be your faithful servant, who is striving to
+help your recovery."
+
+He looked at her with the lines about the corners of his eyes very deep,
+but her frank, ingenuous look disarmed him, his face softened, and he
+said gently: "Yes, I can trust you, nurse.  God bless you for a good,
+patient soul.  And now, tell me--there cannot be such a crisis as that
+of which you speak--surely I should feel something of it if impending--"
+
+He did not finish his sentence but looked piteously up at the nurse,
+whose smile of encouragement chased his dark thoughts away again, and he
+once more raised his hand.
+
+"Yes," he said gently.  "You will tell me the truth.  Sir Denton is
+coming down--to see me--to-day.  It means that, though I do not suffer
+more, I am much worse?"
+
+"Indeed, no, sir; and you are agitating yourself without cause."
+
+"Agitating myself without cause," he muttered softly as he glanced at
+his son, and then quickly back at the candid face bent over him, while
+Neil's heart beat more heavily, and there was a dreamy sensation of
+intense joy at his heart as he saw how full of faith and trust his
+father seemed.
+
+"You are steadily getting better, sir," continued Elisia, and her soft,
+low voice was full of a tender sympathy for the broken man who clung to
+her hand.
+
+"Is that the truth?" he said, very slowly and impressively.  "Don't you
+deceive me, it would be too cruel.  You will tell me all?"
+
+She bent down over him a little lower so that he could gaze full in her
+clear, frank eyes, and there was a curious sense of swelling in Neil's
+breast, and a jealous pang of despair as he clutched the arm of the
+chair tightly and thought of Alison, while the silence in the room
+seemed to be prolonged.
+
+It was Ralph Elthorne who broke that silence, and Neil started back to
+the present, for his imagination had been going rapidly astray.
+
+"Yes," he said quietly; "it is the truth."
+
+He paused again for a few moments.
+
+"You need not tell me," he continued, "but, answer this: and I shall
+quite recover--the use--of my limbs--and get about--again--as before?"
+
+Nurse Elisia did not remove her eyes from those which gazed into hers
+with such fierce question; but her own grew cloudy and seemed to darken
+with sadness and pity for the suffering man.
+
+"Answer me," he said imperiously.
+
+She turned quickly to Neil.
+
+"No," cried Mr Elthorne; "don't ask him what you are to say.  Speak
+out--the truth."
+
+She bent lower over him with her eyes brimming over now, a couple of
+drops falling upon the invalid's breast as he clung spasmodically to her
+hand.
+
+"You cannot lie," he said hoarsely.  "The truth--the truth?"
+
+Again there was a painful silence, and Neil clasped his hands together
+as his arms rested upon his knees, and he closed his eyes and let his
+head sink down, listening intently for the sentence which Nurse Elisia
+had been called upon to deliver.  And at last she spoke, her low, soft
+voice thrilling father and son: "God has spared your life," she almost
+whispered, but every word was painfully audible, "and you retain the
+greatest gift to man--the full possession of your mental powers."
+
+"Yes, yes," he whispered.  "Go on--go on."
+
+"You will soon, now, be sufficiently strong to be out and about once
+more, but--"
+
+"Go on," he panted--"go on."
+
+"Forgive me, dear Mr Elthorne, for saying it.  You force it from me."
+
+"Yes, yes; go on," he panted--"the truth--the truth.  I shall be out and
+about, but--"
+
+"Never again as of old," she continued; and low as her words were, they
+rang out to the ears of the listeners; "never again as of old."
+
+As she uttered this last word of what was almost as painful as a death
+sentence to such a man as Ralph Elthorne, a sob seemed to be torn from
+his breast, and Neil sprang up as if expectant of some fresh seizure.
+But his father made a sign which arrested him, and lay back gazing
+straight before him till many moments had elapsed.  Then his lips
+parted, and they heard him say in a whisper:
+
+"A helpless cripple--I?  Yes, it is the truth--the truth."
+
+CHAPTER FIFTEEN.
+
+A TEMPTING OFFER.
+
+"Never again as of old."
+
+The words seemed to quiver in the silence of the sick chamber as Nurse
+Elisia uttered what, to the sufferer, sounded like a sentence, the more
+terrible as coming from one so grave, calm, and unimpassioned as the
+beautiful woman who stood before him; and as he lay, gazing wildly at
+the speaker, Neil saw his father's eyelids tremble and then slowly drop
+over the dilated eyes, while his worn, thin, wrinkled face was
+contracted.  But he opened his eyes again, and clung tightly to the
+nurse's hand.
+
+"Yes," he said firmly, "that is the truth.  Thank you, nurse, thank you.
+God bless you for what you have done for a poor helpless cripple."
+
+He drew her down toward him as he spoke till he could kiss her brow, and
+then, as she rose, he released her hand.
+
+"Thank you," he said quietly; "thank you.  Yes, that is the truth.  But
+I shall be out again, Neil, weak in body, but not imbecile.  I shall
+still be the Squire, boy.  I am the Squire.  Now, tell me: why is Sir
+Denton coming down?"
+
+"Simply for me to ask his opinion, father," said Neil, seating himself
+again, and resisting the temptation to offer the nurse a chair.  But
+before he could continue it seemed as if his thoughts had been
+communicated to the patient, who turned toward her.
+
+"Sit down, nurse," he said.  "I am wearing you out with attending on
+me."
+
+"Indeed no, Mr Elthorne--" she began.
+
+"Sit down," he cried imperiously, and she quietly obeyed.
+
+"Now go on, Neil."
+
+"Of course I have studied your case very hard," said the son, "and I
+have certain ideas that I should like to test.  I believe they would
+strengthen you, but I will not do anything without getting my opinions
+endorsed by a man of greater experience."
+
+"Humph!  That's sensible; eh, nurse?"
+
+She bowed gravely.
+
+"So I wrote to Sir Denton at length, telling him what I had arrived at,
+and asking him to come down the first free day he had, or, I should say,
+the first time he had a few hours, to see you, and give me his advice."
+
+"Is that all?" said Mr Elthorne sharply.
+
+"Everything, father."
+
+"Humph!  Well, that's right, my boy, quite right.  Don't experiment upon
+me," he said, with a painful laugh.  "After fighting through all this I
+can't afford to go backward.  Keep the experiment for some poor hospital
+patient."
+
+The words jarred on Neil, and he glanced quickly at the nurse, to see
+that there was a pained look in her eyes, but it passed off as she saw
+that she was observed.
+
+"Well, when do you expect him?" said Mr Elthorne.
+
+"Almost directly, sir."
+
+"And why was I not told?"
+
+"For fear of agitating you, and setting you brooding over it.  Besides,
+I was not sure when he would come down."
+
+"Humph!  Well, don't treat me as if I were a child, boy.  I can think if
+I can't walk.  And I must be got out now.  Has that chair come down?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"That's right.  I'll be carried down on Friday when my girls come.  If
+they call before then they are to be brought up.  No, no; I know what
+you are going to say--that they will talk too much.  It will do me good
+to hear Saxa's chatter and Dana's prattle.  When did you see them last?"
+
+In spite of himself Neil glanced at the nurse as he answered:
+
+"I hardly know.  On Sunday, I think."
+
+"You hardly know!  On Sunday, you think!  My dear boy, what a dreamer
+you have become!  Lucky for you that Saxa is what she is."
+
+It was hard work for Neil to keep his eyes averted from the nurse.
+"What will she think?" he said to himself.
+
+The sound of wheels on the drive put an end to the conversation, Neil
+hurrying out to welcome the great surgeon, who declined all refreshment
+until after he had heard full particulars of the progress of the case
+and seen the patient.
+
+"I could not have done differently," said Sir Denton at last.  "You
+found Nurse Elisia invaluable, of course?"
+
+"Invaluable."
+
+"Then now let us go up and see him."
+
+Neil led the way to where Ralph Elthorne lay helpless, but with his eyes
+gazing keenly at him as they entered.
+
+"Ah, good-morning, Mr Elthorne," cried Sir Denton cheerily.
+"Good-morning, nurse.  Now, sir, you know why I have come?"
+
+"Yes, my son has told me," replied the injured man, watching his
+visitor's expression.  "Well?  Am I worse?"
+
+"No, sir; much better.  There is no doubt of that.  There is a vigour in
+your manner and speech that is most satisfactory."
+
+"But I am always to be a helpless cripple?" said Elthorne bitterly.
+
+Sir Denton did not reply for a few moments, but sat gazing in the
+patient's eyes.
+
+"You wish me to answer that question?" he said at last.
+
+"Of course."
+
+"Then I will.  I can answer a man of your strength of intellect, Mr
+Elthorne.  Yes, sir.  No surgical skill could restore you."
+
+He stopped short and watched the patient intently.  "That's well," he
+went on.  "You bear the announcement manfully.  Quite right, for your
+life has been saved, Mr Elthorne; and with the palliatives that
+mechanical skill can supply you with, you ought to and can enjoy many
+years of useful life.  Your son has thoroughly explained to me his
+intentions regarding your future treatment, and I fully endorse his
+ideas.  They will benefit you, but do not expect too much."
+
+"Condemned to a life of helplessness!" muttered Elthorne in a low voice.
+
+"No, sir, you have your brain intact," said Sir Denton.  "Thank God for
+that."
+
+"Yes," said Elthorne, gripping the surgeon's hand, "thank God for that.
+I will not repine, Sir Denton, for I can think, and will, and be obeyed.
+Do you hear, Neil? and be obeyed.  The head is right."
+
+"Yes, and the heart, Mr Elthorne.  So no despair, sir.  Meet your
+trouble like a man.  You can be a successful general yet in the battle
+of life."
+
+"Thank you, sir."
+
+"My dear Mr Elthorne, I wish I could hold out hopes of an ultimate
+recovery of the use of your limbs, but, with a man like you, a frank,
+open statement is best.  You know the worst, and you can get over the
+difficulties.  I can say no more, unless I deliver a eulogy upon your
+son's skill."
+
+"Don't do that," said the invalid grimly; "he is conceited enough
+already."
+
+"Then I will leave you now and ask for a little refreshment.  I have had
+nothing but a cup of tea since my dinner last evening."
+
+He rose, shook hands, and then turned to Nurse Elisia.
+
+"I miss you sadly, nurse, but I suppose you cannot be spared for the
+present."
+
+"Spared?" cried Elthorne quickly.  "No, no; certainly not."
+
+"But I want her in my ward, Mr Elthorne," said Sir Denton, smiling.
+
+"Yes, after a time.  But not yet.  I am so helpless at present."
+
+"Well, well, we shall see," said Sir Denton pleasantly.  "It is mutually
+satisfactory.  Nurse was suffering from our close London hospital air,
+and overworked.  The change here has worked wonders.  Good-bye, Mr
+Elthorne.  I congratulate you upon the skill your son has shown."
+
+He shook hands, and left patient and nurse together, descending with
+Neil to the drawing room, where Isabel, Alison, and Aunt Anne were
+waiting to hear his report.
+
+"Oh, I am glad," cried Aunt Anne, wiping her eyes; and then: "You think
+he can do without the nurse now?"
+
+Alison gave her a furious look, which did not escape Neil.
+
+"Eh?  Do without the nurse?" cried Sir Denton.  "I did not say so.  No,
+my dear madam, her attention is more necessary than ever, I am sorry to
+say."
+
+Aunt Anne's plump countenance bespoke her disappointment.
+
+"You are sorry to say?" she said.
+
+"Yes, my dear madam, for I want her back in town."
+
+Lunch was at an end, and the carriage at the door.  Sir Denton shook
+hands and went out into the hall with Neil, took up his hat, set it down
+again, looked at his watch, and replaced it.
+
+"About half an hour to spare, eh, Elthorne?"
+
+"Yes, quite."
+
+"Take me down the garden, then, where I can see flowers growing.  God
+bless them!  I wish I were a gardener.  I want to speak to you."
+
+Neil led the way down a sunny walk, beneath an ancient red brick wall,
+the old surgeon looking sharply about him till they reached a sundial
+standing upon a moss-eaten stone.  Here he paused and rested his elbow
+on the copper disk, like a modern figure of Time.
+
+"Neil Elthorne," he said, "I like you."
+
+Neil smiled.
+
+"The feeling is mutual, Sir Denton."
+
+"I know it, my dear boy.  You are my favourite pupil, and I want to see
+you rise.  Now, do not be startled.  I have been requested to select an
+able man who promises to be eminent to send out to Black Port."
+
+"On the west coast of Africa?"
+
+"Yes.  To establish a hospital there--a cosmopolitan hospital in which
+government is interested.  It is a terrible place, but a medical man
+knows how to take care of himself.  He would have to engage for five
+years; the pay is very high; and he would have to devote himself to his
+task, above all in trying to ameliorate--cure if he can, and I believe
+it possible--the local disease, which is increasing fast.  I do not
+conceal from you that there will be risks; but the man who goes out
+there for a few years and works, will come back to be loaded with
+honours, and take a very high position in his profession.  A knighthood
+will probably follow.  If I were a young man I would go, but I must
+content myself at my age with my ward in London.  Now, then, there is
+plenty of time for consideration, but I should like to go back with some
+idea.  I have not spoken yet to a soul, and I need not tell you that it
+would be a wrench to part with you; but it is your opportunity, and, as
+I have your future success at heart, I want to see you rise.  Will you
+go?"
+
+"I, Sir Denton?  It is the opening for a physician."
+
+"As much for a surgeon, my dear boy.  He must be both.  You are as good
+a surgeon as I am."
+
+"Oh, Sir Denton!"
+
+"You need not exclaim.  I am not blind.  I have had vast experience, but
+I am getting old and weaker.  You have all that my experience has taught
+you, and, in addition, youth and a thoughtful, originating brain.  I
+tell you frankly, because you are not a weak fool who would be puffed
+up: long before you are my age you will stand far higher than I do.  I
+don't want to send you out there because I am jealous of you," he added
+laughingly.
+
+"But I should not be equal to the task from the medical point of view."
+
+"Nonsense, my lad!  If I wanted medical help, I would far rather come to
+you for it than to any man in our hospital.  Now, don't decide rashly;
+take time to think it over.  You would not have to go for two or three
+months.  There, I need say no more save repeating this: it is a terrible
+place from a health point of view, but the man who goes will be able to
+do something to lessen the risks, and government will help him in his
+movements for sanitation.  Now, I must be off.  Pick me a few flowers.
+Aha!  That is charming," he cried, as he saw Isabel waiting with a bunch
+she had hastily cut in one of the houses.  "Thank you, my dear child.
+Those shall stand in water in my room in memory of a delightful visit.
+I envy you your life in this charming old place.  Good-bye."
+
+He shook hands with Isabel again, and walked back to the carriage with
+Neil, who looked very thoughtful.
+
+"You can write and ask any questions," said Sir Denton, "and in a week
+you will give me your decision."
+
+"I will give it you now, Sir Denton," said Neil gravely.  "It is no."
+
+"Are you sure?"
+
+"Quite."
+
+"You will not alter your mind?"
+
+"No; I shall stay in England--with you."
+
+"I am very sorry, Neil Elthorne, for some things--very glad for others.
+The first is for you--the latter for myself.  Good-bye.  Tell him to go
+fast."  The horses sprang off, and Neil stood thinking in the carriage
+drive.
+
+"A lady in the case," said Sir Denton.  "Well! it is human nature, and I
+am not sorry--for both their sakes.  He loves her, and some day he will
+come and tell me."
+
+At that moment Neil turned to re-enter the house, and his eyes lighted
+upon Nurse Elisia at the first-floor window watching the departing
+carriage.  Their eyes met, and she drew back.
+
+Neil sighed, and then felt a spasm of pain shoot through him, for he saw
+that his brother was close at hand, and that he must have seen the
+direction of his eyes, for there was a frown upon his brow which was
+there still as he said roughly:
+
+"The old man's gone, then.  I suppose he'll charge a pretty penny for
+coming down all this way?"
+
+Neil looked at him in surprise for the moment, but directly after he
+felt that his brother had merely spoken to conceal his thoughts, and he
+was thinking this as he replied:
+
+"Charge?  No.  I shall give him a check for the railway fare.  He would
+look upon it as an insult if I offered him a fee."
+
+CHAPTER SIXTEEN.
+
+HOW ELISIA BECAME A NURSE.
+
+The bedroom was bright with flowers and the many touches given by a
+thoughtful woman's hand, to which was due the sweet fragrance in the
+air.
+
+"But you are better to-day, sir?"
+
+"No, nurse, no.  Perhaps better in body, but not in spirit.  You cannot
+understand it.  I seem to be a prisoner chained down.  My body is here,
+and my mind is everywhere about the place with my old projects."
+
+"Shall I read to you, sir?"
+
+"Read?  Yes; I like to hear you read.  You are a strange nurse, to be
+able to read with so much feeling.  Get a book.  Something good."
+
+"What would you like to-day?"
+
+"Anything.  Who's that?  Go and see.  So tiresome, disturbing me like
+this."
+
+Nurse Elisia went to answer the light tap at the door, and as she opened
+it Aunt Anne appeared, and was sweeping by her, when her brother cried,
+"Stop!"
+
+"But I have some business to transact with you, Ralph," said the lady
+pleadingly.
+
+"I cannot help it.  Go away now.  I cannot be disturbed."
+
+"Oh, very well, Ralph.  I will come up again," said Aunt Anne in an
+ill-used tone.
+
+"Wait till I send for you," said her brother sourly.
+
+"It's all that woman's doing," said Aunt Anne to herself, as she swept
+down the corridor.  "Oh, if I could find some means of sending her
+away."
+
+"It seems as if it were my fate to make enemies here," said Nurse Elisia
+to herself, as she stood waiting with a book in her hand.  "It is time I
+left, and yet life seems to have been growing sweeter in this quiet
+country home."
+
+Her eyes were directed toward the window, by which a little bookcase had
+been placed; and, as she looked out on the beautiful garden, there was
+the faint dawn of a smile upon her lip, but it passed away directly,
+leaving the lips white and pinched, while a curiously haggard and
+strange look came into her face.  She craned forward and gazed out
+intently; there was a cold dew upon her forehead, and the hand which
+took out her kerchief trembled violently.
+
+She drew back from the window, but, as if compelled by some emotion she
+still gazed out.  Ralph Elthorne did not notice the change in the
+nurse's aspect, but illness had made his hearing keen, and he said
+sharply:
+
+"Who is that coming up to the front?"
+
+"Miss Elthorne, sir."
+
+"But I can hear two people."
+
+"A gentleman is with her."
+
+"What gentleman? what is he like?"
+
+There was a strange singing in Nurse Elisia's ears, as, with her voice
+now perfectly calm, and her emotion nearly mastered, she described the
+appearance of the visitor so vividly that Elthorne said at once:
+
+"Oh, it's Burwood."
+
+She looked at him quickly, to see that he lay back with his eyes half
+closed, musing, with a satisfied expression upon his face, while her own
+grew wondering of aspect and strange.
+
+For her life at Hightoft had been so much confined to the sick chamber,
+that she knew very little of the neighbours.  The Lydons had often been
+mentioned in her presence, and, from a hint or two let fall, she had
+gathered that Isabel was engaged to some baronet in the neighbourhood;
+but she had not heard his name, which came to her now as a surprise,
+while the fact of his being in company with the daughter of the house,
+and the satisfied look upon the father's countenance, left no doubt in
+her mind that this was the suitor of his choice.
+
+The current of her thoughts was broken by her patient, who seemed to
+wake up from a doze.
+
+"Ah, you are there?" he said.  "I must have dropped asleep, and was
+dreaming that you had gone out for your walk, and I could not make
+anybody hear.  Have I been asleep long?"
+
+"Very few minutes, sir.  In fact, I did not know you were asleep."
+
+"Ah, one dreams a great deal in a very short time.  You were going to
+read to me, weren't you?"
+
+"Yes, sir.  Shall I begin?"
+
+"You may as well, though I would as soon think."  There was a gentle tap
+at the door.
+
+"Come in.  No; see who that is, nurse.  Why am I to be so worried!  I'm
+not ill now," he cried peevishly.
+
+She crossed to the door and opened it, to find Isabel standing there,
+flushed and evidently agitated.
+
+"May I come in and sit with you a little while, papa?" she said.
+
+Elthorne shook his head.
+
+"No," he cried shortly, "and I will not be interrupted so.  Your aunt
+was here just now.  Pray do not be so tiresome, my dear child.  I will
+send for you if I want you.  Why have you left Burwood?"
+
+A sob rose to Isabel's throat, and as she saw the nurse standing there,
+book in hand, a feeling of dislike began to grow within her breast.
+
+For why should not this be her task?  Why was this strange woman to be
+always preferred to her?  It should have been her office to read to the
+sick man, and she would gladly have undertaken the duty.
+
+"I am very sorry I came, papa, but I see you so seldom," she said
+softly.  "Papa, dear, let me come and read to you."
+
+"No, no," cried Elthorne peevishly.  "Nurse is going to read.  Besides,
+you have company downstairs.  Burwood has not gone?"
+
+"No, papa."
+
+"And you come away and leave him?  There, go down again, and do, pray,
+help your aunt to keep up some of the old traditions of the place.  What
+will Burwood think?"
+
+Isabel gave a kind of gasp, her forehead wrinkled up, and the tears rose
+to her eyes, but at that moment she saw those of the nurse fixed upon
+her inquiringly, and in an instant she flushed up and darted a look full
+of resentment at "this woman," who appeared to be gratifying a vulgar
+curiosity at her expense.
+
+"Did you hear me, Isabel?" cried her father, querulously.  "Pray, go
+down.  You fidget me.  Go down to Burwood, and if he asks, tell him I am
+very much better, and that I shall be glad to see him soon."
+
+"Yes, papa," she said faintly; and turning back to the door, she had her
+hand upon it, when, moved by an affectionate impulse, she ran back
+quickly, bent down and kissed him.
+
+"Good girl!" he said.  "Good girl!  Now make haste down."
+
+She glanced quickly at the nurse, and the resentful flush once more
+suffused her cheeks, for those eyes were still watching her, and this
+time there was a smile upon the slightly parted lips.
+
+The girl's eyelids dropped a little and she replied with a fixed stare
+before once more reaching the door and passing out.
+
+"How dare she!" thought Isabel, trembling now with indignation.  "She
+quite triumphs over one.  Aunt is right; she is not nice.  She seems to
+contrive to stand between me and papa.  It is not prejudice, and I shall
+be very, very glad when she is gone."  The door had hardly closed upon
+her, when, in a fretful way, Ralph Elthorne exclaimed:
+
+"Now, go on; go on!"
+
+The nurse began reading directly, an Old World poem of chivalry, honour,
+and self-denial; and as the soft, rich, deep tones of her voice floated
+through the room, Ralph Elthorne's head sank back, his eyes closed, and
+his breath came slowly and regularly.
+
+But the reader had grown interested in the words she read.  The story of
+the poem seemed to fit with her own life of patient long-suffering and
+self-denial, and she read on, throwing more and more feeling into the
+writer's lines.  At last, in the culminating point of the story, her
+voice began to tremble, her eyes became dim, the book dropped into her
+lap, and a low faint sob escaped from her lips, as the pent up, long
+suppressed agony of her heart now broke its bounds, and, as her face
+went down into her hands, she had to fight hard to keep from bursting
+into a fit of hysterical weeping.
+
+For, only a short hour before, the deep wound of the past had suddenly
+been torn open, and memory had come with a rush of incidents to torture
+her with the recollections of the bygone, of the rude awakening from the
+golden dream of her girlhood's first love to the fact that the man who
+had first made her heart increase its pulsations, the man she had
+believed in her bright, young imagination to be the soul of chivalrous
+honour, was a contemptible, low-minded _roue_.  How she had refused to
+believe it at first, and insisted to herself that all she had heard was
+base calumny; and she had gone on defending him with indignation till
+the cruel facts were forced upon her, and in one short minute she had
+turned from a trustful, passionate, loving girl, to the disillusioned
+woman, with no hope but to find some occupation which would deaden the
+misery of her heart.
+
+Since then her life had been one of patient self-denial, at first in
+toiling among the suffering in the sordid homes of misery in one of the
+worst parts of London.  Here, while tending a woman dying of neglect and
+injuries inflicted by some inhuman brute, it had struck her that she
+might enlist the sympathies of the great surgeon whose name had long
+been familiar, and ask him to come and try to save the woman's life.
+
+To think with her was to act, and she waited on him humbly and
+patiently, all the time trembling for the consequence to the injured
+woman left almost alone.  But at last her turn came, and she was ushered
+into Sir Denton's presence.
+
+He heard her patiently, and shook his head.
+
+"It is impossible, my dear young lady," he said sharply.  "I can but
+battle with a few of the atoms of misery in the vast sands of troubled
+life.  From your description of the case, I fear I can do no good, and
+my time for seeing patients here at home is over, while a score of poor
+creatures are lying in agony at my hospital waiting their turn."
+
+She looked at him despairingly, and he spoke more gently.
+
+"I admire and respect the grand self-denial of such ladies as yourself
+who devote themselves to these tasks, so do not think me unfeeling.  It
+is that I can only attend a certain number of cases every day."
+
+"But you would go to some wealthy patient," she cried imploringly, "and
+I will pay you whatever fee you ask."
+
+"You wrong me, my dear young lady," he said gravely.  "I would not go
+to-day to any wealthy or great patient for any sum that could be offered
+me.  I take fees, but I hope my life is not so sordid as that."
+
+"Forgive me," she said hastily.  "I beg your pardon."
+
+"Yes," he said, taking her hand to raise it reverently to his lips, "I
+forgive you, my child, and I will prove it by seeing the poor woman of
+whom you speak.  Come."
+
+He led her out to the carriage waiting to take him to the hospital, and
+a group of the wretched dwellers in the foul street soon after stood
+watching the great surgeon's carriage, while he was in the bare upstairs
+room of the crowded house.  He stayed an hour, and came again and again,
+till the day came when another carriage stopped at that door, and a
+hushed crowd of neighbours stood around, to see Nurse Elisia's patient
+carried out, asleep.
+
+"If I only had come to you sooner!" she said.
+
+"I could have done no more," replied Sir Denton.  "Believe me, it is the
+simple truth.  We can both honestly say that we have done everything
+that human brain and hands could do."
+
+They were walking slowly away from the house where the woman had died.
+
+"And now I must speak to you about yourself."
+
+"About myself?" she said wonderingly.
+
+"Yes; I ask you no questions about your friends, or your reasons for
+taking up the life to which you have devoted yourself; but I am
+interested in you and your future.  Do you intend to go on attending the
+sick and suffering?"
+
+"Yes," she said simply.
+
+"Good; but not like this.  You are young and beautiful, and at all hours
+you are going about here alone."
+
+"I have no fear," she said, smiling.  "The poor people here respect me."
+
+"Yes; and, to the honour of rough manhood, I believe, my child, that
+there are hundreds who would raise a hand for your protection; but the
+time will come when you will meet with insult from some drink-maddened
+brute.  You must give it up.  Your presence is so much light in these
+homes of darkness, but--you have interested me, as I tell you."
+
+She looked at him searchingly.
+
+He read her thoughts and smiled.
+
+"I am speaking as your grandfather might.  Let me advise you, my child.
+This must not go on."
+
+"I thank you," she replied; "but I have devoted myself to this life, and
+I cannot turn back."
+
+"I do not ask you to turn back," he said.  "You have devoted yourself to
+the sick and suffering.  The duties can be as well performed where you
+will be safe, and treated with respect."
+
+She looked at him doubtingly.
+
+"Let me counsel you," he said.  "Come."
+
+"Where?" she asked, and he held out his hand.  "You can trust me," he
+said; and he led her to his carriage, and then through the ward of the
+hospital where he reigned supreme.
+
+It was a few days after a terrible accident at one of the hives of
+industry, and among other sufferers, some ten or a dozen poor work-girls
+lay, burned, maimed, and in agony, longingly gazing at the door to see
+the face of the grey-haired man on whose words they hung for life and
+strength.
+
+That day he came accompanied by his pale, sweet-faced young friend, in
+whose beautiful eyes the tears gathered as she went round with him from
+bed to bed, appalled by the amount of bodily and mental suffering
+gathered in that one narrow space.
+
+"Well?" he said, a couple of hours later.  "Is it too dreadful, or will
+you help me here?"
+
+"Can I?" she said simply.  "I am so ignorant and young."
+
+"You possess that," he said gravely, "which no education can impart.
+Your presence here will be sunshine through the clouds.  I should shrink
+from asking you to come among these horrors, but you have, for some
+reasons of your own, taken up this self-denying life, and I tell you
+that you can do far more good to your suffering fellow-creatures here
+than by seeking out cases in those vile streets.  You will be safe from
+insult and from imposition.  We have no impostors here.  What do you
+say?"
+
+She gave him her hand, and the next day Nurse Elisia came from her
+home--somewhere west, the other nurses said--and returned at night
+unquestioned, and after a week or two of jealousy and avoidance, as one
+different to themselves, the attendants one and all were won to respect
+and deference by acts, not words.
+
+CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.
+
+"YOU INSULT ME!"
+
+And now Nurse Elisia sat in Ralph Elthorne's chamber, her face buried in
+her hands, the memories of her past life rushing back and a sense of
+misery and despair increasing, so that she felt that the time had come
+when she must rise and flee from a place which had suddenly become
+insupportable to her.
+
+Then a change came over her.  There was a feeling of passionate
+resentment, and a desire to do battle against the one who had wrecked
+her life.
+
+"Shall I stand by and see another's life destroyed as mine has been?"
+
+But her own misery and despair drove these thoughts away, and her spirit
+was sinking lower and lower as the complications of her position seemed
+to increase.
+
+"I cannot stay here," she said to herself.  "It is impossible.  I have
+no part or parcel with these people.  I have done my duty, and I must
+go."
+
+Suddenly she started as if she had been stung, for her hand had been
+taken, and Neil Elthorne was bending over her.
+
+"For Heaven's sake," he whispered, "don't!  I cannot bear to see you
+suffer.  Tell me, why are you in such grief?"
+
+"Mr Elthorne!" she cried in a low voice, as she glanced toward where
+the patient lay asleep.
+
+"Yes; Neil Elthorne," he said huskily.  "I cannot bear to see you in
+such distress.  I have fought with it; I have struggled and suffered for
+months and months now.  I felt that it was a kind of madness and that it
+was folly and presumption to think as I did of one who seemed never even
+to give me a thought.  I came down here.  It was to flee from you, and
+try to forget you, but fate brought you here, and I have had to go on
+from day to day fighting this bitter fight."
+
+"Mr Elthorne--your father--are you mad?"
+
+"Yes," he said excitedly.  "Mad; and you have made me so.  I know that I
+am not worthy of you, but listen; give me some hope.  Elisia, have pity
+on me--I love you."
+
+"No, no; hush, hush!" she whispered excitedly.  "It is impossible; it is
+not true."
+
+"It is not impossible, and it is true," he said.  "You must have known
+this for long enough.  You must have seen the cruel struggle I have had.
+Are you so cold and heartless that you turn from me like this?"
+
+"Mr Elthorne!" she cried indignantly; "you take advantage of my
+helplessness here.  I ought to look for your respect and protection as a
+gentleman, and you speak to me like this--here, with your poor father in
+this state."
+
+"Don't reproach me," he pleaded.  "Have I ever failed in respect and
+reverence for you from the day we met till now?--You are silent.  You
+know I have not.  You know how my love for you has grown day by day as
+we have worked together yonder--here.  You know how I have fought
+against it till now, when I see you suffering, and I can bear no more."
+
+"You insult me!" she said indignantly.
+
+"It is no insult for a man to offer the woman he loves his name, and the
+devotion of his life," he said proudly.  "Am I such a frivolous boy that
+you speak to me as you do, treating me as if it were some pitiful
+declaration from one who has uttered the same words to a dozen women?  I
+am a student; my life has been devoted to my profession, and I swear to
+you that I never gave more than a passing thought to love until you
+awoke the passion in my breast--and for what?  To tell me, when the
+truth will out, that I insult you!  I--I who would die to save you
+pain--who would suffer anything for your sake--who would make it the one
+aim of my life to bring happiness to yours.  And you tell me I insult
+you!"
+
+"Yes; it is an insult to take advantage of my position here, sir, at
+such a time as this.  You forget yourself.  I am the hospital nurse
+attending your father.  You are the surgeon whose duty is, not only to
+your patient, but also to me."
+
+"It is no insult," he said warmly.  "It is the honest outspoken word of
+the man who asks you to be his wife."
+
+"Mr Elthorne," she said coldly, "it is impossible."
+
+"Why?  Can you not give me some hope?  I will wait patiently, as Jacob
+waited for Rachel."
+
+"I tell you, sir, it is impossible, and you force me to quit this house
+at once."
+
+"No, no; for pity's sake don't say that," he cried, catching her hand,
+but she drew it away, and stood back with her eyes flashing.
+
+"How dare you!" she cried angrily.  "You force me to speak, sir.  Once
+more I tell you it is an infamy--an insult."
+
+"Infamy!  Insult!" he said bitterly.
+
+"Yes.  Do you suppose I am ignorant of your position here?  You ask me
+to be your wife when in a few more hours the lady to whom you are
+betrothed will be staying in the house."
+
+He drew back, looking ghastly, just as there was a soft tap at the
+dressing room door, and Maria appeared, looking sharply from one to the
+other.
+
+"I have brought up master's lunch," she said.  "Shall I bring it in
+here?"
+
+"No; I will come and see to it first," said the nurse quickly; and she
+went into the little room, while Neil walked across to his father's
+couch and stood looking down at the worn, thin face as the old man still
+slept on.
+
+"An insult!" he thought--"the lady to whom I am betrothed!"
+
+He looked round wildly, and a sense of despair that was almost
+insupportable attacked him as he fully realised his position and the
+justice of the words which had stung him to the heart.
+
+"But there is something more," he said to himself, as, with nerves
+jarred and his feelings lacerated by disappointment, unworthy thoughts
+now crept in--"there is something more."  And throwing himself into a
+chair, he sat gazing down at the carpet, recalling bit by bit every look
+and word of his brother, beginning with the scene upon the staircase on
+the night of Elisia's first arrival.
+
+They were thoughts which grew more and more unworthy--thoughts which
+began to rankle in and venom his nature, as he formed mental pictures of
+his brother being received with smiles and kindly words.
+
+"I would rather see her dead," he muttered fiercely; and at that moment
+the object of his thoughts entered from the dressing room, bearing the
+little tray with his father's lunch.
+
+Their eyes met, and as he gazed in the pure, sweet face, the harsh
+unworthy thoughts passed away, to give place to a sense of misery,
+hopelessness, and despondency, which humbled him before her to the dust.
+
+"And I dared to think all that!" he said to himself, as he rose and drew
+back from the couch to give place for her to approach.
+
+At that moment the passion within him burned as strongly, but it was
+softened and subdued by the better feelings--the tender love which
+prevailed.
+
+"Forgive me," he said deprecatingly.  "I was nearly mad."
+
+She made no reply, but stood by the couch half turned from him, and he
+could see that her lips were working.
+
+"Can you not hear my words?" he continued humbly.  "What more can I say?
+It was the truth."
+
+She turned to him proudly.
+
+"Mr Elthorne," she said, "I ask you, as a gentleman, to end this scene.
+If you have any respect for my position here, pray go."
+
+He stood looking at her for a few moments, then turned and left the room
+without a word, giddy with emotion, crushed by a terrible feeling of
+despair which drove him to his own room.
+
+Here the bitter thoughts came back.
+
+Alison had been impressed from the first, and he was always seeking for
+opportunities to speak to her.  That, then, was the reason, he told
+himself.  She had twitted him with his engagement, but she would not
+have cast him off for that; and in this spirit a couple of hours went
+by, during which he paced the room.
+
+Unable to bear the turmoil in his brain, toward the middle of the
+afternoon he went down and determined on trying to calm the irritation
+of his nerves by a long walk.
+
+Crossing the garden, he reached the park, and was hesitating as to the
+direction he should take.  Then, in a motiveless way, he went on to a
+plantation through which a path led toward a beautiful woodland hollow,
+which was his father's pride as being the loveliest bit of the park
+scenery.
+
+Here, just as he reached the edge of the plantation, he caught sight of
+a figure walking rather quickly toward the woodland, and in a moment he
+was all excitement again.
+
+"It was the time," he said to himself.  "I was mad to speak to her at
+such an inopportune moment.  She will listen to me now.  For she is all
+that is gentle and sympathetic at heart."
+
+His steps grew faster, and he was just about to turn to his right, so as
+to cut off a good corner, and meet the object of his thoughts about a
+quarter of a mile beyond where she was walking, when he caught sight of
+his brother going in the same direction as himself, but from another
+point, and he stopped short with the old sinking sense of misery coming
+back, and with it the host of bitter fancies.
+
+For there could be no doubt about it, he thought, and not a single loyal
+honest idea came to his help.  She was going toward the woodland,
+perhaps by appointment, and if not, Alison had seen her, and was
+hurrying his steps so as to overtake her as soon as she was out of
+sight.
+
+A curious kind of mental blindness came over Neil Elthorne, and he
+stopped short in the shelter of the trees, gazing straight before him,
+till the figure of his brother disappeared just at the spot which Nurse
+Elisia had passed a few minutes before.
+
+He might have said to himself that there was nothing unusual in the
+nurse taking that part of the park for the daily walk upon which he had
+himself insisted, but upon which he had never intruded.  And again it
+might have been accidental that his brother was going in that direction.
+But, no; the woman he had idolised so long in silence had rejected him
+coldly, and twitted him with his position.  Alison loved her he was
+sure, and he had gone to meet her.  At that hour he was sure of this
+being the case, and he stood thinking.
+
+Alison was as much engaged as he.  Would she listen to him, and would
+she pass over it in the younger, more manly looking brother?
+
+Human nature is strangely full of weakness as well as strength; and as
+these thoughts crowded through Neil Elthorne's brain, it was of the
+woman he was thinking, not of Nurse Elisia, toward whom for the past two
+years he had looked up, almost with veneration as well as love.  It was
+the weak woman, not the self-denying, unwearied, patient being who
+glided from bedside to bedside, assuaging pain and whispering hope and
+calming words.
+
+Nurse Elisia with her saint-like face was no longer in his thoughts.
+They were filled by the beautiful woman who preferred his brother to
+him, and, with a hoarse cry of rage and despair, he strode away, his
+hands clenched, his brow rugged, and the veins in his temples swollen
+and throbbing.
+
+For he was realising for the first time in his life the true meaning of
+the words "jealous hate"; but through it all there was a glimmering of
+satisfaction that he was not about to meet his brother on his way, and
+he shuddered as he thought that sooner or later they must encounter
+after all.
+
+CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.
+
+A SORE LITTLE HEART.
+
+Neil Elthorne was in his father's room when Nurse Elisia returned from
+her walk, looking agitated and strange.  He had found the old man
+fretful and impatient, full of complaints about the way in which he was
+neglected by those who ought, he said, to respect and love him all the
+more for his illness.
+
+"You all have an idea that I am weak and helpless," he cried; "but it is
+a mistake.  I am a little weak, but quite able to manage the affairs of
+my house."
+
+"Of course you are, sir," said Neil.
+
+Elthorne turned upon him fiercely.
+
+"Don't speak to me again like that, sir," he cried.  "Do you think I
+want to be humoured like a child?"
+
+Neil made no reply, but let his father finish his complaint, knowing
+that he would drop asleep afterward, and awaken refreshed and forgetful
+of all he had said.
+
+He was sleeping peacefully as a child when the nurse entered the room,
+to stop near the door as she saw that Neil was present.
+
+"Has Mr Elthorne wanted me, sir?" she said, ignoring the scene which
+had taken place a short time before.
+
+"No; and if he had," replied Neil bitterly, "He would have been quite
+willing to wait until you had kept your appointment."
+
+The words seemed to come in spite of Neil's efforts to stay them; and as
+he finished the blood tingled in his cheeks, and he mentally writhed as
+he saw the look of calm, cold contempt directed at him.
+
+"It was Mr Elthorne's wish, and your own, that I should go for a walk,
+sir," she said gravely.
+
+"To meet my brother?"
+
+She gazed at him half sorrowfully.
+
+"I certainly did meet your brother, sir," she said; and then stopped
+short as if scorning to offer any explanation to him, while he stood
+with his teeth set, wishing that he could have bitten off his tongue
+before he had stooped to make himself so contemptible and petty in her
+eyes.
+
+There was a pause for a few moments, and then the nurse spoke.
+
+"Mr Elthorne," she said, "will you be good enough to set me free?
+Another nurse could do my duties, and I wish now to return to the
+hospital."
+
+"Return?  You know it is impossible," he said.  "The consequences to my
+father would be most serious.  You know that as well as I."
+
+She turned to the patient, and looked at him sadly for a few moments.
+
+"You need not be afraid," he said coldly.  "I shall not address you
+again.  It was a mad dream, and is at an end.  I have been awakened at
+last."
+
+He left the room, feeling as if he could hardly contain his anger as he
+asked himself whether other men could be as weak, and if this was all
+the strength of mind and dignity he had achieved by his years of patient
+study.
+
+"I spoke to her like some spiteful schoolgirl," he muttered, as he
+reached the library, and then threw himself into a chair.  "What must
+she have thought?  How could I lower myself so in her eyes?"
+
+He had hardly left his father's room when there was a quick, soft tap at
+the door, and as the nurse rose to open it, Isabel appeared.
+
+Her eyes were red as if she had been weeping lately, and she made a few
+hurried steps toward the couch, and then turned angrily upon the nurse,
+as a hand was laid upon her arm.
+
+"How dare you?" she cried.  "I must and I will speak to papa."
+
+"I dare," said Nurse Elisia, smiling, "because he must not be awakened
+suddenly."
+
+"You always say that," cried Isabel; but she lowered her voice.  "I
+must--I will speak to him now."
+
+"Hush, my child!" whispered Nurse Elisia; "you are angry and hysterical
+from some trouble.  Do not blame me, dear.  You know it is my duty to
+watch over him and save him from every shock."
+
+"But you try to keep us apart.  You try to be mistress here in
+everything.  You try to--"
+
+"No, no, no," said Nurse Elisia gently, as she passed her arm about the
+excited girl's waist, and drew her toward the other door, while Isabel
+struggled to free herself, but only faintly, and as if a stronger will
+was mastering hers.
+
+"Come with me to my room," was whispered in her ear, and then, sobbing
+weakly, she suffered herself to be led through the other door into the
+little place devoted to the nurse, where she sank into an easy-chair,
+covered her face with her hands, and sobbed as if her heart would break.
+
+Nurse Elisia stood gazing down at her pityingly for a few moments, and
+then sank upon her knees and drew the half resisting little figure
+toward her, as it was evident that poor Isabel was fighting hard to keep
+from bursting out into a paroxysm of hysterical cries.
+
+"My poor motherless child!" she whispered; "what have I done that you
+should insist upon treating me as your enemy?"
+
+"Always--if I wish to go to papa--" panted Isabel with childish
+vehemence.
+
+"No, no, no, my darling," whispered the nurse, as if she were trying to
+soothe some passionate child.  "If you think a moment you will see that
+I only obey my orders.  It is to give him perfect rest that nature may
+strengthen and restore him to you, his child.  Come, come, tell me--what
+is the great trouble?  You cannot understand, but I want to be your
+friend."
+
+"You--you!" cried Isabel, looking up angrily, as she wrested herself
+away, and her eyes flashed; but as she gazed on the patient face so
+close to hers, and saw that the beautiful eyes which looked pityingly in
+hers were also clouded with tears, her mood changed, and she flung her
+arms about the nurse's neck, and buried her face in her breast.
+
+"I am so wretched--so unhappy!" she cried.
+
+"Yes, yes, as if I could not see and feel it," whispered Elisia.
+"There, there," she continued, as she drew the yielding form closer to
+her breast, and smoothed and caressed the soft, fair hair, till Isabel's
+sobs grew fewer, and she looked up half wonderingly, and then clung to
+her more tightly as Elisia bent down and kissed her lovingly.
+
+"There," she whispered, "was that the kiss of an enemy?"
+
+"No, no, no," cried Isabel.  "I did not mean it.  I tried not to say it,
+but you seem to--seem to--oh, pray don't think of what I said!"
+
+"I shall not.  I did not mind, for I felt that some day you would know
+the truth.  How could you think that I would be anyone's enemy!  It is
+my misfortune that I am not liked.  I have tried to satisfy your aunt,
+but she resents my presence here."
+
+"Yes," said Isabel naively, as she clung more closely to her comforter.
+"She thinks you are taking her place, and that--"
+
+She stopped short.
+
+"Yes, dear," said her companion gently; "and--what?"
+
+"I cannot tell you."
+
+"Then I will tell you, dear," said Elisia sadly.  "She thinks that I am
+a deceitful, scheming woman, who tries to lead your brothers astray from
+the path your father has mapped out for them."
+
+"Yes," said Isabel faintly.  "How did you know?"
+
+Elisia smiled.
+
+"Because I am a woman who has seen much of the world, though I am not so
+very much older than you.  Isabel dear," she whispered, as she held the
+girl's cheek close to her own, which now burned, "I want you to trust
+me.  I want you to believe me when I tell you that it is not true."
+
+"I do believe you," cried Isabel ingenuously, as she turned and kissed
+her.  "Indeed--indeed I do."
+
+"I know it, and I feel as if you would always have liked me, only there
+has been this baseless misunderstanding.  Now that is all past, dear,
+and you are going to trust me.  Tell me what is the trouble."  Isabel
+shook her head.
+
+"There is no need.  Forgive me if I trespass on delicate ground, dear,
+and say that it is because this little heart is very sore."
+
+Isabel tried to escape, but very feebly, and the sore little heart began
+to throb as she was held firmly to another which beat more rapidly than
+was its wont.
+
+"I cannot help understanding a good deal," was whispered to her gently.
+"I have not sought to know, but it has come to me.  Come, dear, be
+frank, and let me help you as one who loves you.  Yes," she continued,
+as she saw the wondering look directed at her; "the little heart is sore
+because of tender little passages with one who is now crossing the
+seas."
+
+"Oh!" sighed Isabel, who fluttered a little as if to escape.
+
+"Yes; that is so," whispered the nurse; "and now, with poor papa's
+wishes to back it up, there has come temptation in the way."
+
+"Temptation?"
+
+"Yes, dear, with a title and wealth; and is the heart core because it is
+yielding to circumstances, and trying to forget the absent one who will
+not be forgotten?"
+
+"Yes," sighed Isabel, "and it is so hard."
+
+"Harder for him to return, and see the girl he loved my Lady Burwood."
+
+"But he shall not," cried Isabel passionately.  "I would sooner die!"
+
+"Ah!"
+
+A long drawn, catching sigh, but not of agony, for there was a restful
+satisfaction in its tone, and for a few minutes there was utter silence
+in the room.
+
+"Then you do not care for Sir Cheltnam's tender words?" said Elisia at
+last.
+
+"No, no!  I hate him!" cried the girl.  "He knows so well about poor
+Tom, and he laughs at it all, and says it was a boy and girl love, and
+that this is my father's wish."
+
+"Yes?"
+
+"And no matter what I say, or how I behave, he persecutes me with his
+addresses.  It is dreadful.  Poor papa has promised him that I shall be
+his wife, and he treats me as if I were his own--as if he were my
+master--till I feel as if I wish I were dead."
+
+"So as to break the poor trusting sailor's heart?"
+
+"No, no, no," cried Isabel piteously; "don't, don't say that."
+
+"Then never say those foolish, wicked words again, dear."
+
+"But I am so wretched," sighed Isabel.  "I have wanted again and again
+to see and talk to papa--to beg him to speak to Sir Cheltnam, and tell
+him that I have tried so hard to do what he wishes, but that I cannot--
+indeed, I cannot--though he has set his mind upon it all just as he has
+upon my brothers marrying Saxa and Dana Lydon and--and," she cried
+passionately, "they don't care for them a bit."  There was another long
+pause, during which Isabel wept bitterly.
+
+"What shall I do?" she cried at last, gazing piteously in the other's
+face.
+
+"Wait, dear."
+
+"But Sir Cheltnam?"
+
+"You must try and avoid him till your father has recovered his strength,
+and can bear to hear adverse matters."
+
+"But if I saw him, and spoke to him gently, and appealed to him?"
+
+"In his condition anything like opposition might bring on a serious
+attack, dear.  Even trifles make him so angry that your brother fears he
+may sometime have a fit.  He is in a very precarious state, Isabel, and
+a serious matter like this might--I hardly dare tell you what might
+happen.  Come; you said you would trust me.  I will help you."
+
+"But Sir Cheltnam?  My aunt thinks she is doing right, and encourages
+him to come and torture me.  What shall I do?"
+
+"Wait and trust to me?"
+
+"But it so hard."
+
+"Hush!  There is someone in the next room."  Elisia rose, and entered
+the bedchamber.
+
+"Oh, you are there," said Aunt Anne shortly.  "I am quite sure that my
+poor brother ought not to be left alone so long."
+
+"I was in the next room, madam, and if he had spoken a word I should
+have heard him directly," said the nurse softly.
+
+"It does not seem like it, for I have been here some time."
+
+"Excuse me, Mrs Barnett, Mr Elthorne must not be awakened suddenly."
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"Speak lower, if you please, ma'am."
+
+"Really!" cried Aunt Anne, "this is growing insufferable!  My good
+woman, you quite forget your position here.  Are you aware that I am
+your senior by many years, and have had great experience in a sick
+room?"
+
+"Possibly, madam.  I am not doubting what you say.  I am only going by
+the instructions I received from Sir Denton Hayle.  Mr Elthorne must be
+saved from everything likely to produce a nervous shock."  Aunt Anne
+looked her up and down with indignant scorn, and then marched--it could
+hardly be called walking, the movement was so mechanical and studied--
+straight to the door, and went out without a word.
+
+"Poor woman!" said Nurse Elisia, softly; "and yet she is a sweet,
+amiable lady at heart."
+
+She went back to the dressing room to tell Isabel that her aunt had
+gone, but the room was empty.
+
+CHAPTER NINETEEN.
+
+MARIA CAUSES TROUBLE.
+
+"For two pins I'd have our things packed up and go back at once, Dan;
+that I would," cried Saxa Lydon, as she stood before the long cheval
+glass in the best bedroom at the Elthornes'.  "Here, you, give me that
+pin off the dressing table."
+
+The first words were in a low tone to her sister, the latter to Maria
+Bell, who was playing the part of lady's maid to the two visitors
+dressing for dinner; but from a keen interest in the state of affairs,
+Maria's ears were preternaturally sharp, and she heard the first words
+as well.
+
+A handsome diamond pin was fetched and handed to the speaker, who thrust
+it into the knot of abundant hair, where it glistened like so much dew.
+
+"The place doesn't seem the same," said Dana, who had finished dressing
+and lay back in a chair, arranging and rearranging the folds of her
+dress.
+
+"Hold your tongue," whispered her sister.  "We don't want everyone to
+know."
+
+She looked significantly at the maid, who, with a most discreet air,
+ignored everything and went on folding and hanging up dresses in the
+wardrobe.
+
+"I don't care who hears!" said Dana.  "I'm sick of it.  I wouldn't have
+come if it hadn't been for the poor old man."
+
+"Nor I," said Saxa, whose anger was getting the better of her
+discretion.  "Anyone would think we were perfect strangers; why, Burwood
+is ten times as attentive."
+
+"To you," said Dana spitefully.
+
+"No, he is not; it is to you.  If I were you, I'd give Master Alison
+such a lesson to-night!  I'd flirt with Burwood till I made him half mad
+with jealousy."
+
+"That's the advice I was thinking of giving you," said Dana with a
+sneer.  "He is always at your heels, or wanting to help you mount or
+dismount."
+
+"Oh, come, I like that," said Saxa, whose face was now scarlet, and she
+frowned as she gazed at her sister's reflection in the glass instead of
+at her own and the bracelets she was attaching to her well-shaped arms.
+"He was riding by your side all day yesterday."
+
+"Look here," said Dana coldly, "if you want to quarrel send away the
+maid.  I don't want Burwood.  You can have him."
+
+"Thank you.  But you might tell the truth."
+
+"Don't be a fool!" said Dana, and then, hurriedly, "Hush! don't let's
+quarrel here.  But it's too bad; anyone would think we were nobody at
+all, and that the boys were not at home."
+
+"Don't be a fool yourself," whispered Saxa, leaning forward and offering
+a cut glass bottle.  Then, aloud, "Scent?" and again, in a low voice,
+"That minx's ears are like a fox's."
+
+"Thanks," said Dana, taking the bottle and using it liberally.  "Here,
+what's-your-name?  Maria, have a drop of scent?"
+
+"Oh, thank you, miss," cried the maid eagerly.  "No; don't take it now,"
+said Saxa, replacing the scent on the table.  "You may empty the bottle
+when you pack up our things to-morrow."
+
+"Oh, thank you, Miss Lydon."
+
+"Got quite well and strong again?"
+
+"Yes, miss, quite, thank you."
+
+"It was this nurse who attended you, wasn't it--at the hospital?"
+
+"Yes, miss," said Maria, tightening her lips and looking vicious.
+
+"Hallo!" said Dana, laughing boisterously.  "Look at her, Saxa.  I say,
+used she to drink your port wine and eat your new laid eggs?"
+
+"Oh, I don't know what she did, miss," said Maria, in a tone of voice
+which seemed to say, "Ask me a little more."
+
+"There, I'm nearly ready," said Saxa, examining herself in the glass.
+"I suppose the dinner bell will go directly.  Maria doesn't like nurse.
+She's too much of the fine madam--eh, 'Ria?"
+
+"Yes, miss, a deal too much for me."
+
+"Never mind; she made a better job of you than of the old man.  He gets
+well very slowly."
+
+"Perhaps nurse knows when she is in a comfortable place, and doesn't
+want to go back to London," said Maria tartly.
+
+"Very likely," said Saxa coolly.  "No love lost between you two, I see."
+
+"No, Miss Lydon, indeed there is not."
+
+"Pity," said Saxa laconically.  "Servants ought to be very happy
+together."
+
+"I don't look upon Nurse Elisia as a fellow-servant, miss, and I'm sure
+she doesn't as to me."
+
+"Likely enough.  Thinks she is too pretty.  There, 'Ria, shall I do?"
+and Saxa spread out her dress, and swept across the room and back.
+
+"Well done, female peacock!" cried Dana sneeringly.
+
+"You look lovely, miss," cried Maria.  "Pretty?" she continued.  "Her
+pretty?  P-f-f!  Why, she's nothing to you two young ladies, only I
+suppose some people think differently."
+
+"Eh?" said Dana sharply.  "What do you mean by that?"
+
+"Oh, nothing, miss; only I do say it's a pity some people think so much
+of white faced nurses."
+
+"'Ria has a sweetheart, and he has been making eyes at the nurse and
+wishing he was an interesting invalid," said Saxa merrily.
+
+"Oh, no indeed, miss," cried Maria viciously; "but if I had, it isn't me
+as would have such goings on."
+
+"Ah, well, it isn't my business," said Saxa carelessly.  "Somebody has
+been paying her attentions then, I suppose; and nurses like them as
+other people do."
+
+Maria tightened her lips and said nothing, but Dana looked flushed and
+excited.
+
+"Look here," she said sharply, as if she were speaking to one of her
+grooms, "what does all this mean?"
+
+"Oh, nothing, miss; it isn't for me to say, only I don't like to see
+such goings on."
+
+"What goings on?"
+
+"Oh, nothing, miss."
+
+"But--"
+
+"Let her alone, Dana.  What is it to you?"
+
+"But I want to know," cried Dana sharply, for a faint suspicion had been
+in her brain for some weeks past consequent upon a sudden change she had
+noted in Alison; and this suspicion, increased by the maid's words, was
+rapidly growing into a certainty.
+
+"Well, want to know," said her sister.  "I say, why doesn't that dinner
+bell ring?  I'm hungry."
+
+"Look here, Maria; I've always been kind to you when I've come here,"
+said Dana excitedly.
+
+"Yes, miss, always," said Maria.
+
+"And I always will be, and so will my sister."
+
+"That means half a sovereign, 'Ria," said Saxa merrily.  "Don't you let
+her put you off with a paltry half crown."
+
+"Then tell me what you mean."
+
+"Oh, I couldn't, miss; I couldn't, indeed."
+
+"Then there is something," said Dana, "and--you shall tell me," she
+cried fiercely, as, in an Amazonlike fashion, she gripped the woman's
+arm.  "Now then, you tell me.  It's something about the nurse and--"
+
+"Miss Dana, please don't.  I'm so weak still," pleaded Maria.
+
+"There, you as good as owned to it.  What is it?"
+
+"It's nothing, miss.  I only sus--fancied something."
+
+"Then speak out," cried Dana, sharply.  "I will know before you go out
+of this room.  Then it was them I saw across the park," she exclaimed
+excitedly.
+
+Maria's eyes twinkled.
+
+"You were thinking something about Mr Alison?"
+
+"O Dan, you ought to be ashamed of yourself!" cried Saxa.
+
+"Ought I?  Never mind.  It was what I suspected, but I wouldn't let
+myself believe it.  Now, Maria, you speak out.  I will know now."
+
+"I dursn't, miss."
+
+"You tell me directly, or it will be the worse for you and for him."
+
+"I'm sure I don't know nothing, miss," said Maria, whimpering, "and you
+are hurting my arm."
+
+"And I'm sure you do," cried Dana, loosening her grip and tearing off
+her glove.  "There," she said, taking off a ring set with good-sized
+pearls, "tell me everything and I'll give you that."
+
+Maria turned pale with excitement, and her right hand opened and shut.
+
+"I dursn't, miss," she whispered hoarsely.  "It's more than my place is
+worth."
+
+"If anything comes of what you tell you shall be maid to us, so speak
+out honestly.  There, take the ring."
+
+"Dana, I'm ashamed of you," whispered Saxa, as Maria's fingers closed
+upon the valuable jewel.  "It's disgraceful."
+
+"I don't care.  He's playing fast and loose with me, and I'm not going
+to put up with it, so I tell you.  Now then, I'll speak plainly, Maria,
+and you've got to speak plainly, too.  Mr Alison has been making up to
+that nurse!"
+
+"You won't tell on me, miss?" whispered Maria, in whose palm the ring
+seemed to burn as if the chaste, pale pearls were fiery rubies.
+
+"No; I'll hold you safe."
+
+"Then it is true, miss.  He's always after her, and has been ever since
+she came."
+
+"You lying hussy!" cried Saxa hotly.  "If I were my sister I'd lash you
+with my riding whip--I mean shake you till you went down on your knees
+and owned it was out of spite."
+
+"Lying hussy, am I?" cried Maria viciously, "when every word's true, and
+that isn't all, miss; Mr Neil's as bad or worse."
+
+There was a sharp sound in the room, for Saxa had flashed up with rage
+and struck the woman sharply across the mouth with the back of her hand.
+
+"A lie!" she cried.  "Mr Neil Elthorne would not degrade himself by
+noticing such a woman."
+
+"A lie, is it?" cried Maria, with her hand to her lips.  "Then you shall
+have it now without paying me for it.  It's a lie, I suppose, that he
+was going on with her all the time I was in hospital, and when he was
+down here and obliged to stay because of poor master's hurt--plotted and
+planned to get her down here, too?  That's a lie, I suppose, miss?  I'm
+not blind.  I've seen a deal too much, and if that woman isn't soon
+turned out of the house I'm not going to stop."
+
+"It--is--not--true," cried Saxa hoarsely.
+
+"And poor dear master lying there all helpless, and being cheated by 'em
+both.  It's shameful; and how you young ladies can put up with it--"
+
+"It can't be true," said Saxa furiously.
+
+"Very well, miss, you know best," said Maria; "but I'm not going to stay
+here to be knocked about by the best lady as was ever born."
+
+"Stop!" cried Saxa fiercely; and she caught the malignant woman's arm as
+she was making for the door.  "I--I beg your pardon.  Tell me, is all
+this true?"
+
+"Yes, miss, it's true enough," said Maria, beginning to sob; and then,
+as her arm was loosened, she made for the door, trembling and frightened
+at what she had said in her bitter dislike to the woman who had almost
+saved her life.
+
+"You had better go," said Dana, who was startled at the change which had
+come over her sister's face.
+
+Maria waited for no more, but, repentant in her alarm, hurried out of
+the room, leaving the sisters alone.
+
+Just then the great bell in the turret over the hall began to clang out
+its summons for dinner.
+
+CHAPTER TWENTY.
+
+"VERY BAD NEWS."
+
+"Saxa!  What is it?  I say, don't stand looking in that stony way,"
+cried Dana, seizing and shaking her sister by the shoulder.
+
+"Don't, Dan," she said in a low, hoarse voice.  "But you look so
+strange."
+
+"Yes; I've come a cropper," said Saxa, with a hard, set look in her
+handsome face.  "Is--is it all true?"
+
+"Yes," said Dana fiercely.  "I can think of a dozen things now which go
+to prove it.  I've had a faint suspicion for some time."
+
+"I hadn't," said Saxa in the same low tone.  "I did not think he cared
+much for me, but I thought him too much of a gentleman, and too loyal."
+
+"They have both neglected us shamefully."
+
+"Yes, sis, they have," continued Saxa slowly, "but I didn't mind so very
+much.  I never cared for him a deal.  I never felt that it was what
+people called love, but one has gone on for years with the idea that one
+was to marry Neil Elthorne, and I feel now as if I had come down heavily
+all at once, horse and all."
+
+"Yes; they've fooled us both," cried Dana, and there was a deep silence
+in the house now, for the dinner bell had ceased to clang.  "What are
+you going to do?  We can't go in to dinner now."
+
+"Do?"
+
+"Yes, we can't pass this over in silence."
+
+"No," said Saxa slowly, and as if she were thinking out her words before
+she spoke them.  "I'm going in to poor old daddy to tell him how we've
+been thrown off the scent."
+
+"It will half kill him."
+
+"No, it will rouse him, I say.  He shall know everything we have heard,
+and then we shall have the truth from those boys.  Oh, if I had only
+known before!"
+
+She drew herself up--pale now--with wounded pride, and the agony of
+spirit which made her speak through her set teeth.
+
+There was a sharp tapping at the door.  "May I come in?" cried a
+familiar girlish voice.
+
+"Yes," said Dana; and Isabel came quickly into the room.
+
+"Come, you two," she cried.  "We're waiting dinner.  Oh, I see," she
+added merrily; "dress.  Saxa!  Dana! what is the matter?  Have you had
+bad news?"
+
+"Yes, baby dear," said Saxa solemnly; "very, very bad news."
+
+"Oh!" cried the girl wildly, as she turned ghastly pale.  "News!  Tom's
+ship?"
+
+She reeled and would have fallen, but Saxa caught her, and kissed her
+affectionately.
+
+"No, no, little one," she cried hastily.  "It isn't that."
+
+"Ah!" gasped Isabel, "I thought--Then you two are in trouble."
+
+"Yes, dear.  Who is with daddy?"
+
+"With papa?  Only the nurse."
+
+"Go and send her away, little one.  We must go in and speak to him quite
+alone."
+
+"Then it is some great trouble."
+
+"Yes, dear.  You will know quite soon enough.  Now go."
+
+Isabel, who had looked upon them both as elder sisters, whom she must
+obey, almost from a child, left the room without a word.
+
+"Will it be best to go to him, Saxa?" said Dana hoarsely.
+
+"Yes; we may be girls who have been laughed at through the country for
+our love of horses and the hunt," said Saxa firmly, "but we have always
+been ladies, and we will show these men that we are not to be treated as
+if we were already their wives and slaves."
+
+"Papa is quite alone now, Saxa," said Isabel, reappearing at the door.
+"O Saxa, dear--Dana--can't I do anything for you?"
+
+"No, dear," said the elder sister gravely, "it is not your fault."
+
+"Nurse said you must please not say anything to agitate papa," said
+Isabel gently.
+
+Saxa looked at her half pityingly, and then went slowly out, followed by
+her sister.
+
+"Nurse!" she muttered in a contemptuous whisper, as she went along the
+corridor to Mr Elthorne's door.  "O Dan, quick; let's take the leap,
+and have it over, for, after all, it can't be true."
+
+She turned the handle of the door, and a cry of welcome arose from the
+couch.
+
+"Ah, my bonnie Dianas," cried the old man; "this is good of you to come
+and see me before you go down.  Why, how bright and handsome you both
+look."
+
+Saxa went straight up to the couch, took the two hands extended to her,
+and bent down and kissed the sufferer; and for the first time now the
+hardness of her task became plain, and she began to shrink from hurting
+the poor weak invalid, lying so helpless there.
+
+"Dana, my pet," he said, kissing the younger sister in turn; and then
+excitedly: "Why your hands are damp and cold.  What is it?  There is
+something wrong."
+
+They looked at each other as if to say--"You tell him."
+
+Ralph Elthorne saw it, and his facial muscles twitched, and an angry
+look came into his eyes, but he passed it off with a forced smile.
+
+"Now, now," he cried; "none of that, my dears.  It's nothing.  We've had
+many a run together, and I've only had a fall.  Don't you two begin any
+of that nonsense.  I was a bit hurt, but I'm Ralph Elthorne still: daddy
+to you, my darlings, in name only yet, but it's going to be real before
+long, you know.  I'm not ill, only a bit crippled for the present.  I'm
+not an invalid, my dears, so out with it--what is it?"
+
+There were words in his little speech which made their task more
+difficult still, and they glanced at each other again.
+
+"Come, Saxa," he cried--"come, Dana, let's have it.  You don't want to
+make me angry?"
+
+"No, no," cried Saxa, and she sank upon her knees by him, and laid her
+head upon his shoulder.
+
+"Then speak out.  There's something serious on the way.  Ah, I see!
+Isabel!  She has not gone--absurd!  She was here just now."
+
+"No, no, sir; it is not that."
+
+"Hah!" he ejaculated.  "She would not dare.  Well, then, what is it?
+You, Dana, speak, my child."
+
+Dana was silent, and he turned angrily upon Saxa.  "You are the elder
+girl.  Tell me at once.  I know: it is something about one of the boys."
+
+"He must know, Dan; speak out," said Saxa firmly.
+
+"Why do you put it on my shoulders?" cried Dana angrily.  "Very well,
+then, if I must.  Daddy, it isn't my fault, but that's all over now."
+
+"What is, my girl?"
+
+"All that with Alison; and we've come to say good-bye.  We are going
+back home."
+
+"What?" he cried.  "Nonsense! rubbish!  Some silly lovers' tiff.  What
+has he said to you?  Bah, my pretty one!  Go down and box his ugly ears,
+and make him beg your pardon; you can do it, I know."
+
+"And is Saxa to do the same?" she said bitterly.  "What! you are not in
+trouble, too, with Neil?"  Saxa was silent.
+
+Ralph Elthorne made an effort to raise himself, but his head fell back
+heavily, and he uttered a low moan at his helplessness and wiped his
+face.
+
+"Look here," he said in a low trembling voice; "I know you two girls
+love me, and always have, since you were little bits of things, and it
+all increased when your poor dying father and mother begged me to act as
+your guardian.  Come, now; I've done my duty to you both."
+
+"Always, dear," said Saxa tenderly.
+
+"Then now, both of you do your duty by me.  You, Saxa, my child, speak.
+You came here to stay for a day or two.  I wished it so that you and the
+boys might see more of each other.  I see; you have quarrelled."
+
+"Not yet," said the girl firmly.  "There is no need to quarrel; all that
+is at an end."
+
+"What?"
+
+"Yes, at an end, guardian," said Dana.  "If Alison prefers another woman
+to me, he may have her."
+
+"Alison?  Another woman?  Has he dared to trifle with you? to oppose my
+wishes?  No; it is a mistake.  And you, Saxa, my girl--what is wrong
+with you?"
+
+"I say the same as my sister, sir.  If Neil Elthorne prefers to marry
+your nurse, let him; everything between us is at an end."
+
+Ralph Elthorne's jaw dropped, and he looked helplessly, vacantly, from
+one to the other.  Then, raising his hands wildly, he seemed to be
+fighting for his breath, his convulsed features horrifying the two
+girls, who were strong-minded in their way, and accustomed enough to
+scenes of human suffering to look on unmoved, as a rule.  But the aspect
+of their guardian startled them; the callousness produced by their
+rough, outdoor education dropped away, and they were gentle women once
+again in the presence of the old man's agony.
+
+"I'll ring for help," panted Dana, and in her confusion she ran to the
+wrong end of the room to find the bell pull, while Saxa threw herself on
+her knees by the couch, and caught one of the fluttering hands.
+
+"Oh, daddy! dear old daddy!" she cried, "what have we done?"  Then
+excitedly, "Dan, we were selfish fools to speak.  Dear, dear old
+guardy--we've killed you!"
+
+CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.
+
+A FORCED CONFESSION.
+
+"No, no!" panted Elthorne, in a low, husky voice.  "Stop!  Don't ring!
+Better--soon."
+
+He held up one hand firmly now, and Dana turned uneasily toward the
+other side of the couch.
+
+"Let her call for help, dear," whispered Saxa.  "No," said the stricken
+man feebly, as he battled hard to recover his equanimity; and the
+sisters trembled, repentant, over their work.  "Water, please."  Dana
+flew to the side table, and the hand trembled so that the carafe
+clattered against the glass she filled, and the water splashed over the
+side and on her rich dress as she bore it to the couch.
+
+"Take it, Saxa," she whispered, and the kneeling girl held the glass to
+the invalid's lips.
+
+"Hah!" he sighed, after drinking a little, and signing to his ward to
+take back the vessel.  "I can speak now."
+
+"No, no, dear; not now.  We ought not to have spoken to you," said Saxa,
+pressing her lips to his brow.  "It was very thoughtless, but we were so
+angry and could not keep it back."
+
+He nodded, looked at her proudly, and drew her hand to his lips.
+
+"Good girl!" he said.  "I'm not angry; only weak.  Hush!  Wait a
+little."
+
+"Yes," said Dana quickly.  "We'll go now, and write in a few days."
+
+"No.  Wait," said the old man in a low voice, but one full of decision.
+"I must clear all this up.  You cannot go."
+
+They waited for some minutes before he spoke again, thinking the while
+of the terrible helplessness of the man who had for so many years ruled
+like a king in their district, and who, even now, was fighting hard to
+sway his social sceptre still.
+
+"Hah!" he ejaculated at last.  "Absurd to be so weak.  Better now.  It
+was sudden."
+
+"Daddy, dear," said Saxa tenderly, "don't revive it.  Let it all wait."
+
+"No; not a minute," he said with decision.  "I'm strong again now."
+
+He stretched out a hand to each, and smiled at them in turn.
+
+"There," he said; "it's quite a triumph for you girls to see how weak a
+man can be.  Now, then; let's clear all this up--this absurd nonsense
+about the boys."
+
+"You can't bear it now, daddy," said Saxa, with tears in her eyes.
+
+"I can bear it, little woman.  Now, come, my darlings, what silly
+jealous nonsense is this you have got in your pretty heads?  But I'm
+glad--very glad.  You can both be very soft and gentle, I see, when the
+proper time comes.  But fie!  Saxa.  Shame!  Dana.  It is madness.
+Neil?  The nurse?  Why, my darling, I did not think you could be so fond
+of my great, solemn, dreamy boy.  But--jealous--and of my good, patient,
+gentle attendant!  Oh, tush!  Nonsense!"
+
+He laughed feebly, looking from one to the other, as if seeking for a
+confession that their charge was only the result of a little pique due
+to inattention on the part of his sons.
+
+But Saxa and Dana remained by his couch, stern and hard of countenance;
+and as he watched the frowns gathering on their brows the feeble laugh
+died away, and his right hand began to tremble again.
+
+"Speak," he said at last, after a painful pause, and he fixed his eyes
+on the elder sister, whose voice sounded deep and sonorous as she said
+slowly:
+
+"I'm sorry I spoke, dear," she said.  "It was in my passion."
+
+"And it is all folly," said Elthorne hastily.
+
+"No, daddy," cried Saxa, with a flash of mortified pride in her eyes;
+"it is all too true."
+
+"What!" cried Elthorne, turning his eyes on Dana.  "Yes," said the
+latter, repeating her sister's words; "it is all too true."
+
+"It has been going on for months past," continued Saxa.
+
+"At the hospital in London, dear," added Dana, "as well as here."
+
+Ralph Elthorne drew in his breath with a sharp, hissing sound, and lay
+back staring straight before him, but the sisters, in their returning
+anger, paid no heed to the change in his countenance, as a spasm passed
+over it, but left him calm and firm again.
+
+"I wouldn't have believed it," cried Saxa, "but I must--I must.  It is
+true."
+
+"What?  Neil?  My boy Neil?" said Elthorne hoarsely.  "My quiet,
+obedient, straightforward son, whose word every man trusts?  And Nurse
+Elisia?  I will not believe it."
+
+"Very well, daddy," said Saxa gravely.  "You will see."
+
+"Bah!  Nonsense, girl.  Someone has been poisoning your ears against as
+true and good a woman as ever breathed."
+
+Saxa rose slowly from her knees, and stood gazing frowningly down in his
+eyes, as the old man went on in stern tones of reproof.
+
+"Shame on you, Saxa!  My boy Neil is too noble and high-minded to even
+dream of such a thing.  He--the great surgeon who is growing famous!
+Why, it would be a crime against you, and an insult to his father.  My
+darling, you should not let such a degrading notion harbour in your
+brain."
+
+The girl's stern look intensified.
+
+"There, my child," he continued, "I'll speak gently to you.  She is a
+dear good woman, this nurse, and of course poor Neil has been thrown
+with her a great deal--as doctor and nurse, of course.  Come, my dear,
+let it go.  I tell you, as his father, it is not true.  And now you,
+Dana--have you caught the complaint?  Has Al laughed and joked with one
+of the keepers' daughters?"
+
+"No, sir, but he has made and kept assignations with Nurse Elisia in the
+woods."
+
+"What?  It is not true, girl.  I could--no, no, I will not be angry.  I
+must not; but I am angry with you, my dears, and yet I'm not, for I'm
+glad to see more depth in your affection for the boy than has been
+apparent on the surface.  Tell me now: you have not accused them--made
+this silly, reckless charge?"
+
+"It is of no use to beat about the bush, daddy," said Saxa sadly.  "We
+have not seen the boys; and we will not see them, dear.  We are going
+back home at once."
+
+"You are not going back home at once," cried their guardian, "and you
+are going to see them.  Dana, ring the bell."
+
+"No, no, sir," said Saxa, "there is no need to get up a scene.  We'll go
+away quietly at once."
+
+"Ring that bell!"
+
+"But, daddy--dear guardian--Mr Elthorne!" cried Saxa imploringly.
+
+"Ring that bell, I say," cried Ralph Elthorne, with the veins starting
+in his temples and his face becoming purple.  "Do you think I am going
+to lie here and let my two boys be maligned by that silly piece of
+scandal you hare-brained girls have got in your heads?  My son Neil
+would not degrade himself like that.  My boy Alison would not be such a
+scoundrel.  Ring, I say, ring, and they shall confront you, both of
+them, and tell you it is a lie."
+
+"Very well," cried Dana, and she gave the bell a sharp snatch.
+
+"Who has told you this--one of the servants?"  Before he could be
+answered the two doors of the room flew open, Nurse Elisia entering
+hurriedly by one, Neil by the other.
+
+Neither spoke; they read the trouble at a glance.
+
+"Where is Alison?" said Ralph Elthorne, speaking as if his son were a
+little boy about to be punished.  "Fetch him here."
+
+"My dear father," said Neil firmly, "you are exciting yourself.  I must
+insist--"
+
+"Fetch Alison."
+
+The command was so fiercely given that, seeing it would be better to
+comply than oppose his father and, perhaps, bring on some terrible
+seizure, Neil frowned and withdrew, while his father turned to Nurse
+Elisia.
+
+"Go to your room now," he said.  "I will speak to you presently.  My
+sons first."
+
+"Mr Elthorne--for your own sake--pray be calm."
+
+"To your room," he cried hoarsely.  "Wait."  The nurse looked wildly
+from one sister to the other, and a pang of jealousy shot through them
+as they saw it was no common woman who had stepped between them and the
+smooth, even course of their fate.  Then, after another imploring glance
+at Elthorne, she slowly left the room.
+
+There was a deep silence, only broken by the heavy, stertorous breathing
+of the invalid, till steps were heard, the door was opened, and the
+brothers entered, Neil closing the door behind them.
+
+"Come here," said Elthorne, in an unnaturally calm voice, as if it were
+the father speaking to two erring boys.
+
+The young men advanced, and, after a quick glance, Neil said firmly:
+
+"As your medical attendant, sir, I must insist upon your being perfectly
+calm."
+
+"As your father, sir, I insist upon your waiting till I have spoken.  I
+know my strength better than you can tell me."
+
+Neil made a deprecating sign, and moved to the other side of the couch,
+looking sorrowfully at Saxa, who met his eyes for a moment, and then
+scornfully averted her own.
+
+"Now, Alison," said Elthorne slowly, and in a voice that sounded
+wonderfully composed.
+
+"Yes, sir, what is it?" replied Alison quietly, and at that moment the
+brothers' eyes met and an angry look was directed at the elder.
+
+"This, my son: you are engaged to marry Dana Lydon."
+
+"Am I?" said the young man scornfully, and he gazed at her now
+defiantly, while Neil's heart sank in his breast with a terrible feeling
+of despair.
+
+"Yes, sir, you are," said his father firmly.  "At my wish.  It is an old
+engagement, and I have just heard a charge against you of insulting this
+lady by attempting to carry on a contemptible flirtation with a woman
+serving as a menial in this house.  Tell Dana it is not true."
+
+There was no reply.
+
+"Tell Dana Lydon, the lady to whom you are engaged, that it is not
+true."
+
+Still there was no reply.
+
+"Do you hear me, sir?" thundered Ralph Elthorne, and Neil took a step
+forward in alarm, as he saw the change in his father's countenance, but
+the old man fiercely motioned him back.
+
+"I am not a boy," said Alison haughtily, "and I reserve to myself the
+right to marry whom I please."
+
+"That is not an answer, sir," cried Elthorne sharply.  "I say, is the
+charge true?"
+
+"Ask me when we are alone, sir.  I refuse to be cross-examined and
+treated like a school-boy before the Misses Lydon."
+
+Ralph Elthorne's brow grew black with rage, and Neil again pressed
+forward till his father motioned him back.
+
+"Father! for Heaven's sake, be calm," he whispered.
+
+"Silence, sir!" roared Elthorne, whose aspect now was startling to those
+who watched him and trembled for the end.  "I am fighting, weak as I am,
+for the honour of my house--for the honour of my two sons, to prove to
+these ladies that they have been tricked and cheated by a contemptible,
+false report.  This obstinate fool refuses to clear himself, but you, my
+boy--my eldest son--you are a gentleman.  You will not let any weak
+vanity prevent you from speaking out and proving to Saxa here--your
+betrothed--that a miserable, lying scandal has been set afoot.  That you
+are not one--you, the student and man of reputation--to degrade yourself
+by stooping to a pitiful intrigue which would disgrace you and me in the
+eyes of your betrothed.  Come, let us end this painful scene.  Speak
+out, and then take my child Saxa's hand, and she shall humble herself to
+you and ask your pardon for doubting you, as I know she will."
+
+"Yes," said Saxa, as he turned to her, and she fixed her eyes firmly
+upon Neil, "as I will directly, Neil Elthorne."
+
+"There," said the father.  "You hear, sir?  Now, then, speak out and
+deny it."
+
+"Deny what?" said Neil slowly.
+
+"That for a long time past you have been carrying on a contemptible
+flirtation--bah! the wretched word!--that you have been behaving toward
+Nurse Elisia as the man does to the woman he means to make his wife.  I
+have told Saxa that it is not true."
+
+Neil remained motionless, forgetting his position on his intense dread
+regarding his father's state.
+
+"Come!" said the old man; "this needs no hesitation.  Speak out."
+
+Still Neil remained silent, with something seeming to murmur in his ear:
+"Deny it.  If you speak the truth you will kill him.  He could not bear
+it.  She does not love you--she cares for your brother.  You must not
+own the truth and disgrace yourself forever in Saxa Lydon's eyes."
+
+"Neil!"
+
+He remained silent still, and the voice seemed to whisper again: "Deny
+it.  The avowal will kill him.  You know that in his state it would be
+his death.  You must not--you cannot speak."
+
+"Once more I ask you, boy, to clear yourself before your betrothed.
+Tell her it is a lie."
+
+The change was so terrible in the old man's face that Saxa uttered a low
+cry.
+
+"No, no!" she said.  "Neil!  Look at him.  Look!"
+
+"Silence, girl," cried the old man hoarsely, and with his face working.
+
+"Father, for Heaven's sake," said Neil, bending over him; but the old
+man waved him back, and he shrank away, ignorant of the fact that Saxa's
+cry had brought Nurse Elisia to the door, where she stood appalled at
+the old man's aspect.
+
+"Tell Saxa it is a lie."
+
+"I cannot, sir," said Neil firmly.  "You force from me the truth."
+
+"What!" panted Elthorne.
+
+"It would be deceiving Saxa Lydon, and lying against Elisia, the woman I
+love hopelessly, but with all my heart."
+
+"You have killed him!"
+
+CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.
+
+"THE WOMAN IS A WITCH."
+
+It was Saxa Lydon who said those words, for the old man's face became
+suddenly convulsed; his head dropped back, and, as Neil sank on one knee
+and passed his arm beneath the neck, it turned sidewise, with the eyes
+seeming to gaze reproachfully into his, but there was neither sight nor
+understanding then.
+
+The grey dawn was creeping into the room when Ralph Elthorne recovered
+consciousness, and looked up questioningly in his son's face.
+
+But he did not speak for a time, only let his eyes wander about the
+room, and they saw that he appeared to be noting who were present, his
+gaze resting long on both his sons, his daughter, sister, and the nurse.
+
+At last he spoke.
+
+"Isabel."
+
+She ran to his side, and sank upon her knees.
+
+"The girls?" he said feebly.  "Saxa--Dana?"
+
+"They went home, papa, dear, about two," whispered Isabel; "but don't
+try to talk, now.  Look at me, and I'll try to understand what you
+mean."
+
+He took no notice of her prayer, but closed his eyes, and lay apparently
+thinking, his next words indicating that he recalled what had taken
+place.
+
+"Yes," he said gently; "they could not stay here.  Tell Alison and your
+aunt to go and then you go too."
+
+Neil advanced just then to watch his father narrowly, but the old man
+made no sign of anger.  He lay quite calm and still, as if utterly
+exhausted, but his son noted that he watched until Aunt Anne and Alison
+had gone, when he unclosed his eyes fully, and whispered to Isabel to
+leave.
+
+"May I not stay, papa?  I may be wanted."
+
+"No.  You have been here all night.  Kiss me and go--"
+
+Isabel bent down weeping, pressed her lips on her father's brow, and
+then left the room, with Nurse Elisia and Neil both watching patiently
+as the stricken man's eyes remained fast shut.
+
+But he was quite conscious, for upon Neil approaching the couch after a
+time, his lips parted.
+
+"I am not asleep," he said, gently, "only very weak.  You need not both
+stay."
+
+Neil looked at his father wonderingly, and with something of dread, the
+old man seemed so passionless and strange.
+
+Just then the invalid opened his eyes and gazed full at his son.
+
+"I know what I am saying," he said quietly.  "I recollect all that has
+passed, but I am too weak and helpless to speak much.  Nurse!"
+
+She went to his side.
+
+"Let him stay with me.  You can go for an hour or two.  I am not going
+to die--yet."
+
+She looked at him keenly, and then at Neil, as if to question him, but
+she did not speak.
+
+"The danger is past," he said quietly.  "You can safely go for a time."
+
+"Then set me free, sir," she cried, quickly, her woman's nature
+asserting itself now above the habit of the passionless trained nurse.
+"If there were danger, I would stay, but you say it is past; and it is
+impossible for me to stay here after what has happened."
+
+"There is no reason now, madam," said Neil coldly.  "I am doctor, and
+you are the nurse.  You need not fear that I shall speak again.  You
+cannot leave my father yet."
+
+She looked at him wildly, and then, growing momentarily less
+self-controlled, she avoided his eyes and turned to the invalid, bending
+down over him gently.
+
+"Mr Elthorne," she said; "you have heard your son's words as regards
+your state.  I cannot stay here now.  Give me your permission to go."
+
+He looked at her sadly, and feebly shook his head.
+
+"No, nurse," he whispered huskily.  "You cannot go.  Not yet--not yet."
+
+She started, for he raised his hand, took hers and held it while he
+gazed half wonderingly in her face, as Neil, unable to conceal his
+feelings, hurried away to his own room.
+
+"I am not fit to be left, nurse," said Ralph Elthorne gently.  "You know
+how ill and weak I am."
+
+A sob rose in her throat as she tried to be calm, while he gazed
+intently in her face, scanning each feature.
+
+"So weak, so helpless," he muttered, as if to himself, but she heard
+every word; "and I never thought of this, I never thought of this.  Yes,
+Anne.  You wish to see me?"
+
+"Yes, dear," said that lady, who had entered now unannounced even by a
+tap on the door.  "Yes, Ralph.  I want to speak to you very
+particularly."  He turned to Nurse Elisia, and spoke in an apologetic
+manner, and very feebly.
+
+"Leave us, please, nurse," he said.  "I will talk to you later on."
+
+"No, sir," she whispered.  "Give me leave to go."
+
+"Not yet, not yet," he replied.  "I will lie here and think.  It is all
+so sudden."  Then, with a sudden flash of his old manner, "No; you are
+not to go until I give you leave."
+
+She glanced at Aunt Anne, who had ignored her presence entirely, and
+then she went slowly to the room set apart for her use, asking herself
+how all this would end, and whether it would not be wiser to leave the
+house at once, and end the painful position in which she stood.
+
+"Well, Anne, dear," said Mr Elthorne feebly.  "You want to speak to
+me?"
+
+"Yes, Ralph, I must speak to you now."
+
+"Speak gently, then, dear; I am much weaker.  Not so well to-day."
+
+"And never will be well again, Ralph, with the house in this state,"
+cried Aunt Anne, ruffling up, and speaking excitedly.
+
+"What, what do you mean?" he faltered; and it was like the shadow of his
+former self speaking.  "What do I mean, Ralph?  I mean that the place
+has not been the same since that dreadful woman came."
+
+"You are wrong, my dear, you are wrong," he said querulously.  "So good
+and attentive to me.  I should have been dead before now if it had not
+been for her."
+
+"Oh, my dear brother, how can you be so blindly prejudiced!  Can you not
+see the woman's cunning and artfulness?"
+
+"No, Anne, no.  She has been very good and kind."
+
+"Yes; that is it, Ralph dear, playing a part.  She has won those two
+foolish boys to think of her only, and insult poor Saxa and Dana; and
+now she has ended by winning over poor Isabel, who is in a state of
+rebellion.  I have had a terrible scene with her.  She actually takes
+this dreadful woman's part."
+
+"Poor little Isabel!" sighed the sick man.
+
+"And she's behaving shamefully to poor Sir Cheltnam."
+
+"Ah!"
+
+"Yes; shamefully, Ralph, shamefully."
+
+"And you came to tell me that, my dear?" said Elthorne quietly.
+
+"Yes, Ralph, and it has come to this."
+
+She stopped short, and dabbed her face with her handkerchief.
+
+"Yes, my dear, it has come to this?  Tell me.  I am tired.  I must sleep
+again."
+
+"That this woman, this nurse must leave the house at once."
+
+"Leave?  Nurse Elisia leave?" said Elthorne with a faint smile.  "No, my
+dear, you do not wish to kill me."
+
+"Heaven forbid, Ralph!  I will nurse you now, and Isabel shall relieve
+me from time to time."
+
+"No, my dear, no," he said gently.  "You are very good and kind, but you
+do not understand."
+
+"Not understand nursing?" she cried angrily.  "Not such nursing as I
+require.  No, my dear.  She cannot go."
+
+"Then I shall," cried Aunt Anne angrily.
+
+Her brother laughed softly.
+
+"No," he said; "you will not go.  The house could not exist without you,
+sister."
+
+"Am I to keep your house, then, or not, Ralph?"
+
+"To keep it? of course, dear, as you always have done."
+
+"I am mistress here, then?"
+
+"Yes, my dear, yes."
+
+"Then that woman goes at once," cried Aunt Anne emphatically.
+
+"No," said Ralph Elthorne quietly.
+
+"But I say yes, Ralph.  I am mistress of this house, and it is my duty
+to send her away."
+
+"And I am master, dear, feeble and broken as I am.  She stays till I bid
+her go."
+
+"Ralph, must I tell you everything I know?"
+
+"There is no need, sister."
+
+"But the woman's antecedents?  Maria was at the hospital, and saw all
+her dreadful goings on with the students, and with poor deluded Neil."
+
+"Maria?  Pish!" said Elthorne with a contemptuous smile.  "Nurse
+Elisia's face tells something different from that, my dear.  I would
+sooner believe her candid eyes than Maria Bellow's oath."
+
+"Ralph!  Has this dreadful woman bewitched you too?"
+
+"Enough!" he said feebly.  "Go to your cupboards and your keys, Anne.
+You are a good, true woman, but you have always been as blind and
+prejudiced as your brother has been overbearing and harsh.  This illness
+has brought me very low, dear, and taught me much.  Go now, and
+remember: I owe Nurse Elisia my life.  She is to be treated with
+respect, and I shall send her away when I think good."
+
+"The woman is a witch," muttered Aunt Anne, as she left the room.
+
+CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.
+
+DISCUSSING THE PAST.
+
+A fortnight's watching, and the accompaniments of care and skill, had
+been needed to save Ralph Elthorne from sinking slowly into his grave.
+The shock of his seizure had wrought terrible havoc, but the worst was
+now over, and he was weak, but recovering fast.
+
+There had been no further talk of the nurse leaving, and matters had
+remained in abeyance.  Sir Denton had been down twice and given his
+instructions, and she had resigned herself to her position--knowing that
+the invalid depended upon her for everything, refusing even to take his
+food from other hands, and that if she persisted in her wish to go, the
+consequences might be terrible.
+
+It must have been a terribly lonely life, for she seemed to be avoided
+by all in the house.  She saw Neil, of course, frequently in the sick
+room, but few words passed, and those he uttered with formal respect, as
+he gave her some instructions.  Alison she saw from time to time,
+evidently watching her window, and from him came flowers and fruit
+daily, Maria being the bearer, and setting them down with an insolent
+sneer, which would have roused one less dignified and patient to some
+retort.  But Nurse Elisia had her consolations in the progress of the
+patient and the grateful looks he gave her, while, regularly now,
+stealing in hurriedly, and as if she were performing some guilty act, a
+little figure crept in, last thing, to pass its arm about her neck, kiss
+her, and say "Good-night."
+
+It was then at the end of a fortnight, and Ralph Elthorne, terribly
+changed, but recovering now fast from the shock, lay near the window,
+while Nurse Elisia sat close at hand, working, and ready to attend to
+his lightest wish.
+
+He had been lying there very silent since his son's last visit to the
+room, when he suddenly raised one thin white hand, and beckoned.
+
+Elisia was at his side in a moment.
+
+"What can I get you, sir?" she said gently.
+
+"Nothing.  Come and sit here.  I want to talk to you."
+
+"Do you feel strong enough, sir?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+She brought her work and sat near him, but he signed to her to put the
+work away.
+
+"I want to talk to you seriously about the past."
+
+She glanced at him quickly, and he went on.
+
+"Yes--about the past.  I have not said a word till now.  I have been too
+weak, and it is only just within the last day or two that I have grasped
+it all thoroughly."
+
+"Pray leave it still, sir," she said, with some show of agitation.
+
+"No, I must get this all off my mind.  Now, tell me--you heard what my
+son said on the day of my seizure--my son Neil?"
+
+She bowed her head.
+
+"Well, has he made further advances to you?"
+
+"No, sir, we have only spoken in your presence."  There was a pause, and
+then, gazing at her curiously, he continued.
+
+"Did you--know--what he expressed--before you came down here--at the
+hospital?"
+
+"Yes, sir, perfectly well."
+
+"Ah!  Then ought you to have come?"
+
+"It was my duty sir," she said with animation; "it was Sir Denton's
+wish--almost his command; and, knowing what I did, I felt that I might
+come."
+
+"Knowing what you did?  What was that?"
+
+"I could trust myself, sir, to let Mr Neil Elthorne see that what he
+wished was impossible."
+
+"Ah, but he offered you his hand?"
+
+"Yes, sir, and I refused."
+
+Again there was a pause.
+
+"You do not like my son Neil?"
+
+"Like him, sir!" she cried, with her face flushing; "I think him the
+truest, noblest gentleman I ever met."
+
+"Ah!  And yet, feeling like that, you refused him?"
+
+"Yes, sir, it is impossible."
+
+Ralph Elthorne lay watching her, and she met his searching gaze without
+blanching, her soft grey eyes slightly clouded by the tears which rose
+and gathered till they brimmed over and one great drop slowly trickled
+down her cheek.
+
+"And my son Alison?--he was attracted by you too.  What of him?"
+
+"Mr Alison Elthorne has followed me from the day I came, sir, and
+proffered his love."
+
+"And you have turned a deaf ear to him as well?"
+
+"Of course, sir," she said coldly.
+
+"And he, too, has given up, I suppose?"
+
+"No, sir."
+
+"It is no more than I expected from such a woman as you, nurse," said
+Elthorne, after another pause.  "But there is a reason for all this.
+Forgive me: it is an old and broken man who speaks; there must be a
+reason."
+
+"Yes, Mr Elthorne," she said, and her clear musical voice seemed to
+fill the room; "there is a reason--a good reason--for all this."
+
+"May I know it?"
+
+"Yes; why not?  Some women love but once."
+
+"Ah!" he said, and he took her hand.  "Then you have loved--in the
+past?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+She paused in turn, while he waited patiently, expectant that she would
+continue.
+
+"Ask me no more, Mr Elthorne.  I gave my trusting, girlish heart to one
+I believed good and noble, but I was rudely awakened from my dream; and,
+after a long illness, I devoted myself to the task of trying to help
+those in sore need of a woman's hand, sometimes to nurse them back to
+life, sometimes--ah, too often!--to close their eyes in death.  Ask me
+no more."
+
+He raised her hand reverently to his lips, and then let it fall.
+
+"I will ask you no more," he said gently; and they sat in silence for a
+time.
+
+"_L'homme propose, et Dieu dispose_," he said at last thoughtfully.  "I
+have spent much of my time in planning, but too often my plans have been
+brought to naught.  Nurse, I give up now; I will only try to do what is
+right while I stay.  It will be a grief and will bring more suffering to
+me, but it is not just to you that I should keep you here."
+
+"No, sir.  I am waiting patiently, hoping that I may soon be set free to
+return to my work.  You are well enough now to require only the
+assistance of your child and your sister.  Give me leave now to go.  I
+would gladly stay longer, but there is no need."
+
+"No," he said after a time, "there is no real need.  You must go."
+
+She rose and stood before him, gazing down at him pityingly, as he lay
+there, aged by ten years since she came.
+
+"Good-bye, sir," she said softly.
+
+"What!" he cried, "going now?"
+
+"Better that I should go at once, sir.  You will soon become accustomed
+to another hand.  Let me take yours once, and thank you for all your
+kindness.  I think you understand me, though I have failed with your
+sister.  Good-bye."
+
+She held out her hand and he clutched it with both of his, clinging to
+it spasmodically as his face began to work.
+
+"Mr Elthorne!" she cried, startled by the change.  "Water," he
+whispered, and he loosened one hand only as she reached to the table and
+then held the glass to his lips.
+
+"Thank you," he whispered; "thank you.  I thought I was stronger.  Hah!"
+
+He lay back in silence for a time with his eyes closed, but still
+retaining one of Nurse Elisia's hands.  At last he opened his eyes.
+
+"Weak now as some poor fretful child," he whispered.  "It came home then
+when you spoke.  It cannot be for long, my child.  I am only a poor
+broken man now, against whom his sons rebel, whose daughter is
+disobedient, and whose sister is ready to trample him down.  Don't leave
+me," he pleaded.  "Have pity on me, my child.  I could not bear it.  I--
+I should die."
+
+Nurse Elisia looked at him wildly.
+
+"No, no," she said hastily.  "You feel low and weak to-day.  In a short
+time you will have forgotten all this.  I cannot--indeed I cannot stay."
+
+But even as she spoke she saw that her patient believed the words he had
+uttered, and, trembling for the consequences to one in his weak,
+imaginative state, she hastily promised to give up all thought of going
+for the present.
+
+"Thank you--thank you," he said, trembling as he clung to her hand.
+"You see how weak and childish I am.  Only such a short time back and I
+was strong, and people hurried to obey my word or look.  Now it seems as
+if everyone were falling away from me--even you."
+
+"Oh, no," she said soothingly; "and, besides, what am I to you?  Only
+the hired nurse."
+
+"Yes," he said, gazing up at her piteously, "only the hired nurse; and
+yet you have tended me as if you were my child.  But you will stay?  You
+are not trifling with me?"
+
+"No, no," she said.  "There, it is time you had your sleep."
+
+"Yes," he cried bitterly, and with a suspicious look in his eyes.  "You
+are treating me as if I were a child.  Go to sleep, so that I may awake
+by and by and find you gone."
+
+She bent down and laid her hand on his, as she smiled sadly in his face.
+
+"Have more confidence in me," she whispered.  "Have I ever deceived you
+in the slightest thing?  I tell you I will stay till you are more fit to
+leave."  He uttered a low sigh and lay with his eyes half closed.
+
+"It is so hard to have confidence when one is helpless as I am.  People
+try to cheat me, and say to themselves, `It is for his good.'"
+
+"You may trust me, Mr Elthorne," she said gently, "trust me in
+everything.  Sleep now--that is for your good.  You shall find me here,
+or within call, when you awake."
+
+He looked at her sharply once, and then closed his eyes, dropping off at
+once into a heavy sleep which lasted some hours, but to awaken with a
+sharp start, and a wildly suspicious look around.
+
+The chair, where it seemed to him only a minute before he had seen Nurse
+Elisia seated, was empty, and he uttered a low, despairing cry.
+
+"It is my punishment," he groaned, "for a life of arrogance and pride.
+It has been a kind of tyranny to them all, and now I am to lie here,
+helpless, deceived by everyone in turn.  My punishment--my punishment!
+Better that I had never awakened to my wretched state."
+
+At that moment there was the faint rustling made by a door being softly
+opened and passing over a thickly piled carpet, and directly after a
+faint shadow fell across his couch, then another, and there was a
+faintly heard sob.
+
+"Hush, dearest; he sleeps more lightly now."  Ralph Elthorne's head was
+turned away from the speaker, but he knew the gentle voice, and he
+repeated to himself the words wonderingly, "Hush, dearest; he sleeps
+more lightly now."  To whom was Nurse Elisia speaking so tenderly?
+
+The answer came at once.
+
+"Oh, nurse, dear nurse, is he never to be well and strong again?"
+
+The words came from the speaker's heart so full of love and sorrow that
+there was a stifling sensation in the listener's breast, and when,
+directly after, he felt warm breath upon his cheek, and a kiss, light
+almost as the breath itself, his arms clasped Isabel to his breast.
+
+"Papa! papa!"
+
+That was all; but as Nurse Elisia turned away to the window, it seemed
+to her that father and daughter were closer together in heart than they
+could have been for years.
+
+CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.
+
+AUNT ANNE HARASSED.
+
+Many days had passed, and life went on at Hightoft in the same sad way.
+
+It was the "master's" desire that the nurse should stay, but there was
+rebellion among the servants against "master's favourite," and poor Aunt
+Anne's breast swelled with anger against her niece, who had ventured to
+tell her that she was unjust.
+
+"But I shall say nothing, Isabel, only that some day you will come to me
+repentant, asking my pardon.  I always have been ready to ridicule all
+superstitious things, and have laughed at table turnings, and talkings,
+and hypnotisms, and mesmerisms, and all the rest of it, but that woman
+has something of the sort in her, a kind of power for influencing weak
+people, for she has literally bewitched you all.  If she had lived a
+hundred years ago, she would have died."
+
+"Why, of course, Aunt dear," said Isabel smiling.  "It is nothing to
+make fun of, my dear.  She would have either had her toes tied together,
+and been thrown into a pond, or been burned at the stake.  That was the
+fate of all these witches then."
+
+"Poor Nurse Elisia!" said Isabel smiling.  "I'm glad she did not live
+then."
+
+"Maria tells me," continued Aunt Anne, "that it was just the same at the
+hospital.  That woman used to turn all the other nurses and the students
+round her little finger; and as for Sir Denton--well, they may call him
+a great surgeon, but if ever the carriage overturns, and I am badly
+hurt, no Sir Dentons for me.  I call him a weak, silly, infatuated old
+goose.  Maria only yesterday told me that once--"
+
+"Aunt Anne," said Isabel quickly, "does it ever strike you that it is
+very undignified and degrading to listen to the wretched tattlings of an
+ignorant, spiteful woman, who returns all Nurse Elisia's kindness to her
+by telling falsities and distorting simple matters that happened in the
+past?"
+
+"Isabel!" cried Aunt Anne, starting bolt upright in her chair, "you
+surprise me!"
+
+"Do I, Aunt?"
+
+"Yes, you do.  You, assuming the tones and manners of your poor father,
+and speaking to me, the mistress of the house, like that!"
+
+"But you are not the mistress of the house, Aunt."
+
+"I beg your pardon, child.  Your father has delegated all authority to
+me, and he renewed the charge only a few weeks back."
+
+"Then you ought to do your duty, Aunt," said Isabel.
+
+"Isabel, you do surprise me, you do indeed!" cried Aunt Anne, who looked
+quite aghast at what was, in her eyes, rank rebellion by a child against
+her authority.
+
+"Do I, Aunt?  I am very sorry," replied Isabel quietly.  "I was only
+thinking that if I were mistress here, I should consider it my duty to
+send Maria away at once."
+
+"And I do not," cried Aunt Anne.  "My idea is that it would be my duty
+to discharge that dreadful nurse."
+
+"But poor Auntie cannot," thought Isabel, "and consequently she is not
+sole mistress of the house."
+
+"And now, as I have occasion to talk to you, Isabel," continued Aunt
+Anne, drawing herself up, and gazing very sternly at her niece, "I will
+not reprove you for your very flippant, disrespectful treatment of your
+poor father's sister."
+
+"Oh, Auntie dear," cried the affectionate girl, jumping up from her
+place to go behind the elder lady's chair, and place her arms about her
+neck.
+
+"Isabel, I beg you will not do that," said Aunt Anne.  "It is not
+prompted by genuine affection."
+
+"Oh, yes, Auntie, it's quite true," said Isabel.
+
+"It cannot be, my dear; but, as I going to say, as I have found it
+necessary to reprove you, I must remind you that your conduct is not
+what it should be to your friends Saxa and Dana."
+
+"But, Aunt dear, they went off to Lucerne without a word to me, and you
+know that I never felt that they were great friends of mine, in spite of
+all.  They always looked down upon me because I did not care for horses,
+and dogs, and grooms."
+
+"I am not going to say any more about those two poor girls who have been
+expatriated by your brothers' base conduct."
+
+"Auntie!  It was not base if the boys did not love them."
+
+"They did love them, and they do love them, my dear," said Aunt Anne
+sternly.  "All this is but a passing cloud, spread by that wicked woman,
+which blinds them.  But it was not about that I wished to speak to you."
+
+"What, then, Auntie?" said Isabel, looking at her suspiciously, and
+thinking of a visit she had paid a few days before to a certain invalid
+vicar who had lain back in his chair to proudly read aloud portions of a
+letter he had received by the last mail.
+
+"Sir Cheltnam Burwood was here yesterday.  Now, it is of no use for you
+to pretend that you did not know he was here, for I am certain that I
+saw you stealing off down the laurel walk, on the pretence of going to
+visit some of the poor, and I dare say, if the truth were known, you
+went to the vicarage."
+
+"There was no pretence about it, Aunt dear."
+
+"But indeed there was, Isabel, and _I_ was obliged to entertain him,
+instead of you.  Naturally enough, he complained very bitterly of your
+treatment, and I must say that for a young lady engaged to him it is
+most icy, almost paralysing."
+
+"Papa will not persist," thought Isabel; "he has grown so kind and
+loving to me.  He will not make me say yes, when he knows that it would
+break my heart."
+
+"Now, it is of no use for you to turn sulky, my dear, and take refuge in
+silence.  That is very childish and unbecoming in a girl like you.  For
+you are no longer a child, and if you cannot do what is just and right,
+you must be taught.  I have invited Sir Cheltnam to dinner on Tuesday."
+
+"Aunt!"
+
+"Yes, my dear, and I am sure your papa will highly approve of my plan.
+It is absurd to go on as you do, though your conduct is no worse than
+your brothers'.  I declare, the house is quite wretched: Neil shut up
+always in the library, pretending to study bones, and Alison sulking
+about in the gunroom, and scowling at Neil whenever they meet.  All I
+hope is that nothing worse will come of it."
+
+"Oh, Aunt, what could come of it?" said Isabel uneasily.
+
+"Ah, you speak like a child.  When you have had my experience of the
+world and man's angry passions, you too will have fears."
+
+"It is all very sad and a great pity," said Isabel.  "Yes, and a greater
+pity that those two misguided young men's sister should go on as she
+does, making a devoted friend of the cause of all the mischief."  Isabel
+winced.
+
+"I'm sure we've quite trouble enough in the house without having a
+parricide."
+
+"Auntie!  A parricide?"
+
+"Don't be absurd, Isabel.  I said a fratricide."
+
+"Aunt, what a dreadful idea!  Oh, for shame!"
+
+"Dreadful enough, my dear, and I'm sure I sincerely hope there never
+will be anything of the kind, but Cain never could have looked at Abel
+worse than Alison did at Neil only yesterday."
+
+"Aunt!"
+
+"Oh, it's true, my dear.  It sent a cold chill all down my back; and
+ever since I've felt quite a presentiment of coming evil.  I do hope
+they will not quarrel, and really I think it would be better if Neil
+went back to town."
+
+"Aunt, dear, such ideas are too shocking.  Just as if Neil would be
+likely to degrade himself by quarrelling with Alison.  I am sure he has
+too much self-respect."
+
+"Ah, young inexperience!" cried Aunt Anne pityingly.  "Young men forget
+all their self-respect when they have been blinded by such a siren as
+that nurse."
+
+"Oh, Aunt, you ought not to speak of nurse like that."
+
+"You think so, my dear; I do not."
+
+"But you will some day," cried Isabel passionately, and with the tears
+of vexation in her eyes.  "She is all that is amiable, and good, and
+ladylike."
+
+"Ladylike, child!"
+
+"Yes, Aunt.  If she were not, I'm sure poor dear Neil would not have
+cared for her as he does."
+
+"Ah, well," said Aunt Anne, preening herself like a plump bird, "we
+shall see, I dare say.  I will not call her an artful woman, but mark my
+words, Isabel, she will not rest till she has deluded one of your poor
+brothers into marrying her."
+
+"Aunt!  And she avoids them, and is as distant as possible to poor
+Neil."
+
+"All feminine cunning, child.  Oh, Isabel, I wish you would not be such
+a baby!  Can you not see that it is to lead him on, while she is playing
+off one brother against the other?"
+
+"I will not argue with you, Aunt," said the girl indignantly.
+
+"No, my dear, I beg you will not.  Wait and see, and then come to me
+humbly, and own how wrong you have been."
+
+Isabel was silent, and Aunt Anne went leisurely on with some fancywork
+of a very useless type, till an idea occurred to her, and she looked up.
+
+"Isabel, my dear, what wine was that Sir Cheltnam praised so, last time
+he dined here?"
+
+"Really, Aunt, I do not know."
+
+"No, child, you never know anything.  It is very tiresome.  I should
+like the dinner to go off well, and that wine has quite slipped my
+memory.  Now, was it the hock, or the champagne?  He would like the
+compliment if I had the forethought to have it served."  Isabel shrugged
+her shoulders impatiently.
+
+"It is very tiresome," continued Aunt Anne.  "He praised one of them,
+and made a face at the other; but perhaps I shall recollect by and by.
+I wonder that I remember anything, harassed as my poor brain is with
+worry and trouble, and you never trying in the least to help me, but
+rather setting yourself in antagonism."
+
+"Oh, Aunt, you are too hard."
+
+"Not a bit, child.  And I am surprised at your giving so much as a
+passing thought to young Mr Beck.  Tom!  Gracious, what a name!  Only
+fit for a groom, or one of the men about the farm."
+
+"Really, Aunt," began Isabel.
+
+"Now, pray do not interrupt me, Isabel.  The name is common and absurd.
+Now, Cheltnam--Sir Cheltnam--Sir Cheltnam Burwood!  It is old,
+aristocratic, and refined.  A name to be proud of.  But Beck--Tom Beck!
+Faugh!"
+
+"It sounds honest, Auntie," said the girl with spirit, "and does not
+suggest drinking the Cheltenham waters, which I believe are very
+bitter."
+
+"Now that's absurd and childish, Isabel, and you know it is.  I did hope
+that now young Beck has gone, you would come to your senses.  But I will
+be fair, and say that your brothers are worse than you.  I suppose I
+shall have to beg and pray of them to come in to dinner, and behave like
+Christians, and not let Sir Cheltnam think he is going to be
+brother-in-law to a couple of young men with malice and hatred in their
+hearts.  All your beautiful nurse's doing, my dear, all her fault.
+Well, really!  To jump up and run out of the room like that!" cried Aunt
+Anne, staring in amazement at the last fold of her niece's dress, as the
+poor girl hurried away, unable to bear the long flow of annoying
+prattle, and to hide her chagrin in face of the ordeal to which she was
+to be submitted at the dinner projected by her aunt.
+
+She hurried up to her room, to sink upon her knees by her bed and bury
+her face in her hands.
+
+"Crying, Isabel?  What is the matter, dear?"
+
+She had not heard the door opened, and she started to her feet to throw
+herself upon Nurse Elisia's breast, sobbing out her trouble, and dread
+of the meeting on the following Tuesday, when she knew that in her
+mistaken notions of duty, Aunt Anne would contrive that she and Sir
+Cheltnam should be left alone.
+
+CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.
+
+A COUNTERPLOT.
+
+Neil Elthorne's absence from the hospital was rapidly extending to a
+term of months, broken only by a weekly visit, during the last of which
+Sir Denton, after hearing the report upon Ralph Elthorne's health, had
+said quietly:
+
+"Never mind if you have to be away from here another month, my dear boy.
+You are not right yet yourself.  You look careworn and anxious.  I am
+managing very well, and I want you to be quite strong before you return.
+By the way, I have not filled up that post yet.  I have had three men
+engaged one after the other, but they have all turned tail--backed out
+of it.  You will not alter your mind?  Fine opportunity for a brave man,
+Elthorne."
+
+"No, I cannot leave England," replied Neil firmly.  "There are reasons
+why I must stay."
+
+"A lady, of course," said Sir Denton to himself.  "I did once think--but
+never mind.  He knows his own affairs best."
+
+Neil was back at Hightoft after his last visit to town.  His father was
+very slowly mending, and the nurse, as he could see, was indefatigable,
+her actions in the sick room disarming to some extent the young
+surgeon's resentment as he brooded over the fact that Alison was
+constantly watching, and obtained interviews with her, he felt
+convinced, from time to time.
+
+He used to muse over these matters in the library, where he had
+surrounded himself with various works into which he plunged deeply,
+trying hard to forget his troubles in hard study of his profession, but
+too often in vain, for he was haunted by Nurse Elisia's calm, grave face
+in all his waking hours.
+
+"She has a right to prefer him," he would say, "and I have none to
+complain; but it is hard, very hard."
+
+He visited the sick room regularly four times a day, and his behaviour
+there was that of a surgeon who was a stranger.  The nurse was always
+present, and she received his orders in the same spirit, a coldness
+having sprung up between them that was very nearly resentment on his
+part, but always on hers the respect of nurse to the doctor who had the
+patient in charge.
+
+Several little things had made Neil satisfied that there was a quiet
+understanding between his brother and Elisia, trifles in themselves, the
+most important being Alison's manner when they met at meals.  For there
+was always a quiet, self-satisfied look in the young man's eyes which
+indicated triumph, a look that roused a feeling of rage in his breast
+that he found it hard to control.
+
+Neil felt that if they were together a quarrel must ensue, an encounter
+the very thought of which made him shudder, and after visiting his
+father he would hurry back to the library, and try to forget everything
+in his books.
+
+It was with affairs in this condition that the day on which Sir Cheltnam
+was to dine there came.  Neil had paid his customary morning visit, and
+paused at the door as he entered quietly, feeling almost lighthearted as
+he saw the look of returning vigour in his father's face.
+
+The old man was talking eagerly to the nurse, whose back was toward
+Neil, and there was a glow of satisfaction in the young surgeon's heart
+as he owned to himself that it was almost entirely Elisia's work, her
+devotion to his father, which had wrought this change.
+
+The group, too, at which he gazed pleased his eye: the invalid looking
+up, full of trust, in his graceful attendant's face; and the
+crushed-down love in Neil's breast began to revive again, as he thought
+that if he could win her his father would be ready to take her as a
+daughter to his heart.
+
+Then all came over black.  The scene before him was clouded, and a sense
+of despairing misery filled his breast.
+
+They were talking about Alison, for his father mentioned the young man's
+name, and Elisia was evidently listening with attention to his words.
+
+Neil drew back quickly to hide his emotion, for he felt that he could
+not face them then; but the door clicked as he closed it, and before he
+was at the head of the stairs it was reopened by Nurse Elisia, who said
+quickly:
+
+"You need not go back, sir.  Mr Elthorne is quite ready to see you."
+
+He turned once more, and as he gazed sharply in the nurse's face, he
+detected a faint flush in her generally pale cheeks and a suffused look
+in her eyes which strengthened him now in his belief.
+
+"Even my father is working against me," he thought to himself, as he
+passed on and took the chair by the side of the couch.
+
+"Yes, boy, my yes," said his patient with some display of animation, "I
+certainly am better this morning.  Helpless as ever, of course--I am
+getting resigned to that.  I feel more myself, and I shall soon be
+asking for my invalid chair or a carriage ride."
+
+"Have them as soon as you can bear them, sir," said Neil, laying his
+father's hand back upon the couch.  "Yes, you are decidedly stronger
+this morning, and I think you can now begin to do without me."
+
+"Without you, my boy?  Yes, I think so, but not without nurse.  I am
+very weak yet, my boy."
+
+"But that will soon pass off," said Neil coldly.  "You must keep your
+attendant, of course."
+
+"Yes.  Yes, of course, Neil, of course."
+
+"Then to-morrow or next day I shall go back, and come again, say from
+Saturday to Monday, and then give you a fortnight's rest, so as to break
+off by degrees."
+
+"You want to go back, then, Neil?"
+
+"Yes, sir.  The hospital has hardly known me lately.  I ought to go
+now."
+
+"True; yes, I ought not to keep you longer, my boy," said his father
+thoughtfully.  "But you 've done a wonderful deal for me, Neil."
+
+"The best I could, father; and, thank God, we have saved your life."
+
+"Thank God, my life has been spared!" said the old man fervently; and he
+closed his eyes.
+
+Neil left them soon after to return to the library, but not to resume
+his studies.  His heart burned with anger against everyone in the place,
+and he paced the room thinking bitterly.
+
+"Yes," he said to himself, "my work is done, and I may go.  He said
+nothing, but his manner betrayed the whole wretched story.  They have
+prevailed upon him.  Dana is away and forgotten.  Yes; of course.
+Alison was with him two hours yesterday.  There: the dream is past, and
+I am fully awake again."
+
+He stood with his teeth set, and his hands clenched for a few moments,
+and the muscles of his face worked painfully.  Then, drawing a long,
+deep breath, he suddenly seemed to grow calm.
+
+"Well, why should I repine?  Only one can win the race.  I ought to say,
+`Heaven bless them!'  She has won her way to my father's heart, and yes,
+Heaven bless her!  I will try and take her hand by and by, and kiss her,
+and say, `Dearest sister, may you be very happy with the man of your
+choice!'  Yes; we must be brothers once again.  But I must go soon.  I
+am too weak to bear it now."
+
+There was a tap at the door.
+
+"Yes.  Come in."
+
+The door opened, and Aunt Anne entered cautiously.
+
+"Ah!" she cried, "not reading.  I was so afraid of disturbing you, my
+dear.  You have grown such a learned man I'm quite afraid of you."
+
+"Nonsense, Aunt dear.  A surgeon must keep himself _au courant_ with
+what is going on in his profession abroad."
+
+"Of course he must, my dear, but he must not starve himself to death."
+
+"No fear, Aunt," said Neil pleasantly.  "I have no intention of trying
+any such experiment."
+
+"Oh, but you are always trying to live without food, my dear, and you
+look pale, and your hair is beginning to show grey.  Why, you look
+fifteen years older than Alison, and you are only four."
+
+Neil winced.
+
+"He looks brown, and hearty, and handsome, while you--"
+
+"Look like an old professional man, Aunt," he said, laughing, but with a
+touch of bitterness in his tone.  "So much the better for me.  The world
+goes by appearances.  It does not like boyish looking surgeons."
+
+"Ah! it's a very foolish world, my dear.  But now, look here.  I am
+going to have a little extra dinner to-day because Sir Cheltnam is
+coming, and I want you to promise to come and take your father's place."
+
+"Ask Alison."
+
+"No, my dear; you are the elder, and I ask you.  Time after time I've
+had nice things got ready, and you have refused to dine with us.  Now
+promise me you will come this evening."
+
+"Oh, very well, Aunt, if it will please you."
+
+"Thank you, my dear; that's very good of you.  It will please me very
+much."
+
+"That's right, then.  And, by the way, Aunt, I shall be going back in a
+few days."
+
+"Going back, my dear?"
+
+"Yes; my father can be left now."
+
+"Then the nurse will go with you?" she said, with a look of suspicion in
+her eyes.
+
+"No, Aunt," he said coldly.  "Nurse Elisia will stay here as long as my
+father desires to have her at his side."
+
+"Oh, very well," said Aunt Anne, rustling her dress; "it is just as your
+father likes.  You are a terribly headstrong race, you Elthornes."
+
+"Including yourself, Aunt?"
+
+"Oh, no, my dear.  I take after my mother's family.  But it is nothing
+to me.  I am not going to interfere.  All I say is that I hope
+everything is for the best."
+
+"And I hope the same, Aunt," said Neil cheerfully.  "It's all
+self-denial through life, eh?"
+
+"Always, my dear.  Then you will dress to-night, and come?"
+
+"Oh, yes, Aunt; I'll come."
+
+"Then we shall have a decent dinner," thought Aunt Anne, as she went
+back to the drawing room.  "I'm sorry that woman is not going, but I'm
+glad she is not going up with Neil.  Now suppose, after all, he is
+giving her up!  Oh, if I could only get poor Alison to be as sensible,
+instead of growing more infatuated by that creature every day!"
+
+Neil settled down to his books at once, seeking in study for the cure of
+his mental pains, but he had hardly begun to forget the events of the
+morning in an abstruse theory of muscular disease, when there was
+another tap on the panel, and in obedience to the cry, "Come in!"
+Isabel hurriedly entered and closed the door.
+
+"Ah, my dear!" he said; and she looked at him wonderingly, his tone and
+manner were so different to their wont.  This gave her encouragement,
+and begat her confidence, so that she ran to him, sank on her knees by
+his chair, and took his hands.
+
+"Why, what's this?" he cried.  "Anything the matter?"
+
+"Yes, Neil, dear," she said.  "I'm in trouble, and I want you to help
+me."
+
+"Trouble?  Help?  Well, what is it, baby?"
+
+"Don't laugh at me, Neil," she whispered in a broken voice.  "Sir
+Cheltnam Burwood is coming to dinner."
+
+"Yes.  Aunt has just been to tell me.  What of that?"
+
+"What of that?" she cried piteously.  "Oh, Neil, dear, you don't see all
+this as I do.  It is so that he may see and talk to me.  It is Aunt's
+doing, and she says it is only carrying out poor papa's wishes."
+
+"Ah, yes," he said thoughtfully.  "I had almost forgotten that."
+
+"Forgotten it?" she cried reproachfully.  "Oh, Neil!"
+
+"I'm a selfish fellow, little one," he said, bending down to kiss her,
+when her arms were flung round his neck, and she buried her face in his
+breast and burst into tears.
+
+"Come, come, come!" he whispered soothingly; "what is it, Bel darling?
+There, wipe your eyes and tell me all about it, and let's see if
+something cannot be done."
+
+"Yes, Neil, dear.  It's very weak and foolish of me, but Sir Cheltnam's
+coming, and he quite persecutes me with his addresses, and if I am angry
+he only laughs.  He talks to me as if I quite belonged to him now."
+
+"Does he?  Well, we must stop that, Bel.  You are not his wife yet."
+
+"No, dear; and I've no one to come to but you and Nurse Elisia.  She is
+so kind, but what can she do?"  Neil frowned.
+
+"Ah, yes," he said huskily, "what can she do?"
+
+"I believe I should have broken my heart if she had not been so loving
+and kind to me."
+
+"Loving and kind?"
+
+"Yes; I used to hate her, Neil, but she is so good and dear."
+
+Neil half turned away his head.
+
+"Neil, darling, you can help me to-night.  When papa is quite strong
+enough I am going to beg and pray of him to let me stay at home and be
+his nurse and attendant.  I love Tom, but I won't ask to marry him if
+papa says no.  But I can't marry anyone else.  I don't want to, and it
+would kill me to have to say `I will' to that dreadful man."
+
+"Poor little darling!" he said tenderly.  "Then you shall not.  Father
+must listen to reason by and by.  I can think about you now, and I
+will."
+
+"Oh, Neil, you have made me so happy," she cried ecstatically.  Then,
+changing her manner directly, "But he's coming to-night."
+
+"Well, what of that?  You must be cool to him."
+
+"But he does not mind that, and Aunt is sure to arrange to leave us
+alone.  I know she has planned it all with him."
+
+"Ah!"
+
+"Yes, I am sure of it; and if you would watch for me, and as soon as
+Aunt has left us alone come and put a stop to it by staying with me, I
+should be so grateful."
+
+"What a duty for a surgeon, Bel!"
+
+"It is to heal a sore heart, Neil," she said, smiling through her tears.
+
+"Is it, pet?  Well, then, I will try what I can do.  Some people ought
+to be made happy in this weary world."
+
+"But it isn't a weary world, Neil," she cried enthusiastically.  "It's a
+lovely world, and I could be so happy in it, if--"
+
+"Yes, Bel," he said sadly; "and I could be so happy in it too, if--"
+
+"People did not make it a miserable world," cried Isabel.
+
+They were silent for a few minutes, and then the girl continued:
+
+"You will help me, Neil?"
+
+"By not letting you be alone with our gallant, foxhunting baronet?"
+
+"Yes, dear."
+
+"I promise you," said Neil half sadly, half playfully.  "I will watch
+over you while I stay down here like a lynx."
+
+"Oh, my darling brother!  But you are not going soon, Neil?" she cried,
+as she kissed him.
+
+"Yes, very soon, dear.  I must get back to my poor people and work.  But
+I will work, too, to try and make my little sister happy."
+
+"Thank you--thank you--thank you, dear Neil!" cried the girl.  "You've
+made the world seem so bright and happy again; and--and I'm not afraid
+to meet Sir Cheltnam now--and--and--oh, Neil, Neil, I must go upstairs
+and have a good cry!"
+
+She ran out of the room before he could stop her.  "Poor little sis!" he
+said, as he looked at the door through which she had passed.  "Well, I
+can make someone happy if happiness is not to come to me."  He looked
+sadly about him for a few moments, and then half aloud he whispered, as
+he formed a mental future:
+
+"And I could be so happy, too--if--"
+
+CHAPTER TWENTY SIX.
+
+NEIL BREAKS HIS PROMISE.
+
+"Just going down to dinner?" said Ralph Elthorne, as his son came into
+his room the same evening.  "That's right, Neil.  It looks like old
+times.  It does me good.  Wait a bit, and I'll join you--as of old.  Not
+quite," he added, and his lip quivered--"not quite, my boy.  But I can
+be carried down, and I shall not be an invalid."
+
+"No, sir," said Neil, "no invalid, and you will soon forget your
+lameness."
+
+"Yes, yes, Neil, I shall try hard to do that.  There, I will not keep
+you.  I'm getting independent, you see.  Ask nurse to come and sit with
+me as you go out."
+
+There was no need, for as Neil rose to go down, the nurse entered, book
+in hand, but drew back till the young surgeon had left the room to go
+thoughtfully downstairs, for he was forcing himself to think out what it
+would be best to do respecting his sister.  He shrank from disturbing
+his father's mind, now that he was so much better and free from
+disturbing elements.  A subject like that might bring on a fresh attack,
+or at least retard his progress, and by the time Neil had reached the
+drawing room he had planned that he would speak firmly to Burwood; but
+he paused at the door, for he foresaw that such a proceeding would very
+likely drive the baronet to speak to his father, when the agitation
+would only be coming from another source.
+
+"Bel must fight her own battle," he said to himself.  "A woman ought to
+be able to cool a lover's courage.  There the matter must wait.  Like
+many more of the kind, give it time and it will settle itself."
+
+He entered the room, to find the objects of his thoughts all there and
+waiting his coming.  Aunt Anne was radiant, and Burwood, who was
+chatting with Alison upon the everlasting theme of the horse, came and
+shook hands in the warmest manner.
+
+"I can't quarrel with him," thought Neil.  "It must be done by diplomacy
+or scheming."
+
+The dinner was announced directly after, and as Neil took in his sister,
+she pressed his arm.
+
+"Please, please, dear, don't let me be out of your sight all the
+evening," she whispered.
+
+"Impossible to do that, little one," he said quietly.  "You ladies will
+leave the room, you see.  Suppose I keep Burwood in sight all the
+evening, will not that do as well?"
+
+"Oh, yes," she whispered eagerly.  "Of course."  The dinner passed off
+wonderfully well, everyone seeming to be on the _qui vive_ to keep off
+anything likely to trench upon the past and the troubles in the house.
+Aunt Anne did scarcely anything but beam; Sir Cheltnam related
+anecdotes; and Alison entered into conversation with his brother.
+
+In due time the ladies rose, and the three men were left together over
+their wine, when the conversation went on as easily as if there had been
+no undercurrent of thought in either breast.
+
+"It will be easy enough to keep them apart," thought Neil, as he sipped
+his coffee.  "When we go into the drawing room Bel shall sing some of
+the old ballads."
+
+A calm feeling of restfulness had come over Neil Elthorne, and it was as
+if his efforts at self-mastery were already bearing fruit, when after a
+quick glance had passed between Burwood and Alison, the latter rose,
+went to the window, and looked out, taking the opportunity to glance at
+his watch.
+
+"Very dark," he said.  "Nasty drive back for you, Burwood.  Want your
+lamps."
+
+"Oh, the mare would find her way home if it were ten times as dark,"
+said Burwood laughingly.  "I think I could get safely back without
+reins.  She always turns aside if we meet anything."
+
+"Nothing like a good, well-broken horse," said Alison, looking furtively
+at his watch.  "What do you say to joining them in the drawing room?"
+
+"By all means," cried Burwood, rising.
+
+At that moment the butler entered, and went straight to Neil's chair.
+
+"Beg pardon, sir," he whispered.  "You are wanted in master's room."
+
+Neil started to his feet, and turned to their guest.  "You'll excuse me
+for a few minutes?" he said hurriedly.
+
+"Doctors need no excuse," replied the baronet, and Neil hurried out and
+upstairs to his father's room, expecting and dreading some fresh
+seizure, but, to his surprise, he found his senior lying back calmly on
+his couch, ready to salute him with a smile.
+
+"I was afraid you were unwell," cried Neil.
+
+"No, my boy, no; I've been lying very comfortably.  In less pain than
+usual."
+
+"But you are alone."
+
+"Yes.  Nurse has just gone.  You might have met her on the stairs.  A
+message came for her--from Isabel, I suppose.  I don't mind.  I told her
+not to hurry; I want to inure myself to being more alone."
+
+"And you wanted me, sir?"
+
+"Yes, my boy," said Elthorne.  "Not particularly; but I knew that you
+had been seated over your wine for some time, and I thought you would
+not mind coming up to me for a little while.  I get very dull sometimes,
+my dear boy.  You do not mind?"
+
+"No, sir, of course not."
+
+"Well, don't look at me like that, Neil.  It is the doctor examining me
+to see how I am.  I want you to look like my son."
+
+Neil smiled.
+
+"Ah, that's better.  Sit down close up here for a while.  Burwood and
+Alison will have a cigar together, and not miss you."
+
+"Oh, no," said Neil rather bitterly.  "They do not care much for my
+society."
+
+"Why not?" cried his father sharply.  "You are an able, cultured man--a
+clever surgeon."
+
+"But not a veterinary surgeon, father," said Neil, smiling.
+
+Ralph Elthorne nodded and smiled.
+
+"No," he said; "you are right.  They do seem to think of nothing but
+horses.  I was the same once, I'm afraid, my boy.  Perhaps I shall think
+a good deal of horses still; but," he continued sadly, "from a very
+different point of view to that of the past."
+
+"Never mind the past, father," said Neil quickly.  "Think of the
+future."
+
+"A poor future for me, Neil," said Elthorne, shaking his head.
+
+"By no means, my dear father.  There is nothing to prevent your living
+another fifteen or twenty years."
+
+"Like this?" replied Elthorne despairingly, as he glanced down at his
+helpless limbs.
+
+"Like this, sir.  You are a wealthy man, and can soften the hardships of
+your state in a hundred ways."
+
+"Ah, well, we shall see, my boy, we shall see."
+
+"Have you been reading?" asked Neil, glancing at a book on the little
+table by the side of the couch.
+
+"No.  Nurse Elisia was reading to me when Maria brought her a message."
+
+"Shall I go on reading where she left off?" said Neil, taking up the
+book and feeling a kind of pleasure in holding the little volume so
+lately in her hands.
+
+"No, no, I am tired of poetry and history.  What are you writing now?"
+
+"Only some notes on a case that is taking up a good deal of attention
+just now."
+
+"Ah!" said the elder man eagerly.  "I should like to hear that."
+
+"It is very dry and tedious, I'm afraid; only of interest to the
+professional man."
+
+"But I take an interest in such things now.  Will you read it to me,
+Neil?"
+
+"Of course, sir.  I'll fetch it," said Neil, smiling at his father's
+eagerness about matters that he would be unable to comprehend.
+
+"That's right, my boy.  But you are sure that you will not think it a
+trouble?"
+
+"My dear father," cried Neil, taking his hand, "I wish you would try to
+understand me better.  I'm afraid you do not."
+
+"Yes, yes, my boy.  I do understand you, indeed I do.  Don't think
+because I have lain here, querulous and complaining, that I have been
+blind as well as helpless.  God bless you, my boy, for all you have
+done!"
+
+"Only my duty, sir," said Neil gravely, "and I only wish that--"
+
+He stopped short.
+
+"Yes--yes--what?" said his father eagerly.
+
+"That I could have followed out your wishes in another way."
+
+He rose and went out of the room, leaving the helpless man gazing sadly
+after him.
+
+"The tyrant's reign is over," he said sadly, "and I must be resigned to
+all that comes."
+
+Neil went hurriedly down to the library, to stop short as he reached the
+door, for there was the low murmur of a man's voice within, speaking in
+appealing tones.
+
+"Poor Bel!" muttered Neil, as the recollection of all that had passed
+that day came back, and his promise--entirely forgotten--to keep Burwood
+with him, came like a flash.
+
+It was only a dozen steps to the dining room, and he hurried there to
+throw open the door, and, as he feared, find it empty.
+
+Angry with himself for his carelessness, though hardly at the moment
+seeing how he could have acted differently, he hurried back to the
+library, entered suddenly, and then stopped, as if paralysed by the pang
+which shot through him.
+
+For he had entered angrily, feeling ready to interrupt a _tete-a-tete_,
+which Burwood must have contrived to obtain with his sister; and he
+found himself in presence of Alison, who was tightly holding Nurse
+Elisia's hands, which she now seemed to wrest away, as she turned
+suddenly, looked wildly in Neil's face, rushed by him, and hurried out
+of the room.
+
+"Well?" said Alison, as soon as he could recover from the startling
+effect of his brother's interruption.  "You might have knocked."
+
+Neil made no reply, but stood there pressing his nails into the palms of
+his hands, as he fought hard to keep down the sensation of mad, jealous
+hatred gathering in his breast.  Then, turning upon his heel, he
+staggered more than walked out of the room, across the hall and upstairs
+to his father's chamber, but only to pause at the door.
+
+"I have no right--I have no right," he said; and going down once more,
+forgetful of everything but his own agony of spirit, he took his hat
+from the stand, passed out through the hall door, and walked swiftly
+away into the black darkness of the night--onward at a rapidly
+increasing pace--onward--anywhere so that he might find rest.  For the
+feeling was strong upon him that he and his brother must not meet while
+this mad sensation of passion was surging in his breast.
+
+CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN.
+
+MARIA'S DECEPTIVE MESSAGE.
+
+"Don't read any more, my dear," said Ralph Elthorne gently.
+
+Nurse Elisia looked up from her book and found that the patient was
+gazing at her.
+
+"Ah," he said, with a faint smile on his pinched lips, "I said `my
+dear.'  Yes; not the way to address one's nurse.  It was to the sweet,
+gentle woman who has tended me with all the patient affection of a
+daughter."
+
+"Oh, Mr Elthorne!" she cried, her eyes brimming with tears, "I have
+only tried to do my duty as your attendant."
+
+"And you have done much more," he said, as he still gazed at her
+thoughtfully.  "You have set me thinking a great deal, my child--a great
+deal, and--no, you must not talk of leaving here again for a long time--
+a very long time."
+
+She shook her head.
+
+"I have duties in London, sir, which call me away."
+
+"And a duty here which keeps you," he said, smiling.  "You would not be
+so hard-hearted as to leave such a broken old fellow as I am--helpless."
+
+"But you will not be so helpless soon, sir."
+
+"Ah, well," he replied, "there is time enough for that.  We shall see--
+we shall see.  Yes.  Come in!" he cried querulously, for there was a tap
+at the door.  "No, do; don't come in.  See who it is, my child.  If it
+is Isabel, she may come.  If it is my sister, tell her I cannot see her
+to-night, and that she must stay with her visitor."
+
+"And it will make her more bitter against me," thought Elisia, as she
+crossed the room, to find that it was Maria Bell.
+
+"Miss Isabel wants you in the lib'ry, nurse, in a quarter of an hour,"
+said the woman shortly; and she turned her back and went down.
+
+"What is it? what is it?" said Elthorne sharply.
+
+She told him.
+
+"Now what can she want that she could not have come and said to you
+herself?  In a quarter of an hour, eh?" he continued, turning his eyes
+to the little carriage clock standing on the table.  "Yes: they will be
+out of the dining room then, and the gentlemen will be sitting over
+their claret--as I used to be over my glass of port--as I used to be
+over my glass of port."
+
+"Shall I read to you again for a while, sir?" said the nurse, to divert
+his thoughts from the past.
+
+"No, not now," he said shortly.  "Hah!  How little we know of what is in
+store for us.  Such a hale, strong man as I was, nurse.  And now, a
+helpless baby--nothing more."
+
+"Nothing more, sir?  With mental powers such as yours?"
+
+"Hah! yes.  A good reproof, but it is impossible not to lie here and
+repine.  Mental powers such as mine!  That was not meant as flattery,
+eh?"
+
+"I think you know I would not be so contemptible, sir," she said.
+
+"Yes, I do know.  Thank you.  Another reproof.  Why, nurse, my accident
+must have done me good.  I should have resented reproofs once upon a
+time.  But I've paid dearly for my lesson--very dearly indeed, and there
+is so much more to pay--all my life.  Yes, all my life."
+
+He closed his eyes and lay thinking for some time, not opening them till
+the quarter of an hour had nearly sped, when he looked sharply at the
+little clock.
+
+"Time you went down," he said sharply.  "Tell Isabel to come and see me
+a little sooner to-night, to sit a quarter of an hour before she goes to
+bed."
+
+Elisia placed a glass close to her patient's head; saw that the cord was
+within reach, in case he should want to ring; and then, conscious that
+he was attentively watching her every act with a satisfied look in his
+eyes, she passed out into the corridor, and then drew back slightly, for
+Aunt Anne had just passed the door, and was going on to her own chamber
+with her dress rustling loudly as it swung from side to side, and
+threatened to sweep some of the valuable ornaments from the side tables
+and brackets arranged here and here.  Then, turning into her room, the
+door was closed and Elisia went on down.
+
+As she reached the hall, voices could be heard plainly in the dining
+room, where she judged that the gentlemen would still be sitting over
+their wine.  She half stopped as one voice rose louder and sounded deep
+and hoarse, and for the moment it seemed as if, in dread lest the door
+should be opened and the occupants of the room appear, she was about to
+retreat upstairs; but, recovering her confidence, she passed on toward
+the library, the softly subdued notes of a piano reaching her ear from
+the drawing room, so that she was in no wise surprised, on turning the
+handle, to find that the library was lit up but vacant.
+
+The door swung to as she entered and glanced around the massively
+furnished room with its heavy bronze figures on the mantelpiece, each
+bearing a globe lamp which threw a subdued light around, while a broad,
+green shade spread a circle of light on the book covered table.
+
+Elisia took a few steps forward into the room, rested her hand upon the
+back of one of the heavy leather-covered chairs, and sighed as she stood
+thinking.  For the place, with its calm silence and softened light,
+evoked thought, and the disposition to recall the days when life seemed
+opening out before her in one long vista of joy.  At that time it was as
+if there were no such element in existence as sorrow; and yet of late
+hers had been permeated by incessant grief, and a despondency so great
+that there were hours when she lay sleepless, thinking that death when
+it came would be no trouble, only a great and welcome rest.
+
+She sighed again as she stood there crossing one hand over the other,
+and half resting on the great chair back.  And now a smile faintly
+dawned upon her lip, as she began to think of her mission there, and of
+how long it would be before Isabel came.  For it was pleasant to think
+of the fresh, innocent, young face, which had now grown to light up when
+they met, as its owner became more trusting and affectionate day by day.
+
+Then, as she thought that the girl would come as soon as the piece she
+played was finished, the tears rose to her eyes.  For the melody she
+heard, like every air that has once made its way to the heart, evoked
+old memories of scenes years before, when she had played that old air.
+It had been a favourite of hers, and used to sound bright and joyous,
+but now it was full of sadness.
+
+"Why is it," she thought, "that as time glides on, all these old airs
+grow more mournful in their tones?"
+
+The answer to this has never come, but the fact remains the same; and
+why should they not sound more sad to us who heard them in our youth,
+and love them better in our riper years when they are blended with
+memories, and softened by time, even if the hearing of the strain does
+produce a mistiness of vision and a disposition to sigh?
+
+Even as Elisia stood and listened, the tones of the piano seemed to
+float to her, and it was not until there was the faint sound of a
+closing door that she awoke to the fact that there was no other sound
+vibrating in the air, and that all was very still where she waited.  But
+her heart beat more quickly, and her hand was raised to her breast in
+the fancy that she might stay its throbbing, for the step she heard was
+familiar--that hasty, decided pace, crossing the marble floor, as if
+bound on some important mission.
+
+Her lips parted and there was a hunted look in her eyes as she looked
+sharply round for a way of retreat.
+
+"He is coming here," she said in a hurried whisper, and she glided
+toward a folding screen between her and one of the great book cases; but
+before she reached it the plainly heard steps ceased, and she knew that
+they were hushed on the thickly carpeted stairs.
+
+"Gone to his father's room," she said with a sigh of relief, and walking
+back to the chair, she rested one elbow upon it and let her face drop
+down upon her hand, her tears welling forth, and one glistening between
+her white fingers in the soft light.
+
+"No--no--no," she said quietly.  "It cannot be now.  It is all a painful
+dream.  All that is dead."
+
+She tried to picture in her mind Isabel in the drawing room playing the
+last chords of the familiar old air, and then leaving the music stool to
+join her there, but another figure forced itself to the front, and she
+saw the dark form of Neil Elthorne as vividly as if she were watching
+him from close at hand.  She could picture him passing along the
+corridor, then opening the chamber door, to see him more plainly as the
+soft light from the room shone out like a golden glow, and lit up his
+pale, thoughtful face.  Then she seemed to see him close the door, cross
+the room, and go to his old seat beside the couch.  And how familiar
+that attitude had become, as he bent forward to take and hold his
+father's hand.
+
+She was mentally gazing on father and son when the scene changed, and
+once more there was the old man's flushed and distorted face, with the
+veins starting and eyes wild with anger as he realised that his long
+cherished plans had been so rudely overset.
+
+The scene was very plain to her imagination.  There, too, were the
+handsome, masculine looking sisters, whose eyes flashed at her
+scornfully, as she saw herself standing there, pale and shrinking, in
+her plain black dress, and then meeting Ralph Elthorne's searching gaze.
+She remembered her effort to be firm and yet how she had trembled in
+dread of the man's fierce anger.  And without cause, for from that
+moment he had spoken differently to her, he had grown more kind and
+gentle; in fact, there had been times when she had fancied in her dread
+and shrinking that his words even sounded fatherly.
+
+It might be imagination, she knew, but his manner had ended in evoking
+thoughts which had grown stronger than ever that night, and over which
+she brooded now.
+
+Minute after minute passed unnoticed as she stood in the old library,
+and she gave quite a start, and her hand fell to her side, as a door
+opened again, and this time she heard voices.
+
+"Has Isabel forgotten me?" she said to herself, as steps crossed the
+marble floor again, another door was opened and closed, and she stood
+listening and expectant.
+
+Then there was a quick, light step, the library door was thrust open,
+and she turned eagerly to greet Isabel, but started back in alarm on
+finding herself face to face with Alison, who quickly shut the door and
+advanced toward her with a meaning smile upon his countenance, which she
+could see was slightly flushed by the wine of which he had partaken
+freely.
+
+A minute later Neil entered the room and seemed blinded by the passion
+which surged up in his labouring breast.
+
+CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.
+
+SIR CHELTNAM EXPOSED.
+
+"What will he do? what will he say?" panted Elisia, as she hurried
+across the hall to reach the stairs.  Her customary calmness was gone,
+and one moment she was wild with excitement, the next her heart was
+sinking in despair.
+
+"I'll run back," she thought, as she stopped short.  "It was cowardly to
+go and leave him."
+
+She took a couple of steps back, for a great dread had assailed her;
+those two brothers were face to face!  What might not happen! and she
+the cause.  She was half way back to the library, when a hand was laid
+upon the door, and in her dread she stopped short, turned, and was
+making for the stairs, but, feeling that she would be in full view of
+whoever left the room, she ran swiftly over the marble floor to the
+large _portiere_ at the end of the hall, and entered the great
+conservatory which ran all along that side of the house, library and
+drawing room opening into it as well.
+
+With her heart beating heavily, she had hardly found refuge among the
+broad leaves of the great exotics when she heard a quick step crossing
+the hall, and she shrank farther away.
+
+"Neil," she said to herself; "and he is coming to drag me back to face
+his brother."
+
+But even as she thought thus the sound ceased, and she knew that he had
+once more ascended the stairs.  She stood there in the semi-darkness,
+hardly daring to breathe, till she felt that Neil must have reached his
+room; and then, with a feeling of utter desolation oppressing her,--a
+misery greater than she could bear,--she turned toward the hall, dimly
+conscious that someone was speaking in the drawing room, for the voice
+came through the open window at the far end of the conservatory.
+
+But it was nothing to her; only someone to avoid.  Neil had surprised
+her with his brother--that was all her brain would bear; and, trying to
+think what she should do next, she had nearly reached the hall when she
+stopped short, with her cheeks flushing, and a sensation of anger which
+mastered everything else rising in her breast.
+
+There was no hesitation now in her movements.  She walked sharply along
+the tiled floor, with the great-leaved plants brushing her arm, straight
+for the open doorway through which a subdued light showed the form of
+leaf and spray, and stepped at once into the dimly lighted drawing room,
+where a similar scene was being enacted to that in which she had so
+lately taken part.
+
+Here seemed to her to be the reason why Isabel had not kept her
+appointment, for, as she entered, Sir Cheltnam was standing half way
+down the room, his back toward her, and holding Isabel's hands tightly
+in his, as, half banteringly, he put aside as folly every appeal and
+protest uttered by the now frightened girl.
+
+Isabel was striving vainly to release herself when she caught sight of
+the dark figure of the nurse, framed, as it were, in the conservatory
+doorway, and, uttering a cry of joy, she now wrenched her hands away
+from their visitor's grasp, and before Burwood could check her she ran
+to Elisia's side, clung to her, and panted excitedly:
+
+"Nurse--nurse--don't leave me--pray, pray stay here!"
+
+"My poor child!" whispered Elisia, as she bent over the hysterical girl,
+and drew her tightly to her breast.  "Hush! hush! for everyone's sake
+try and master it.  You are quite safe now."
+
+"Yes--yes; quite safe now," sobbed Isabel.  "Don't--don't leave me
+here."
+
+Sir Cheltnam, meanwhile, had stood in the middle of the room speechless
+with fury, for the interruption had been completely unforeseen.  It was
+understood with Aunt Anne and Alison that he was to win from Isabel her
+consent to an early marriage that very night, and those who had promised
+their help had carefully arranged that the _tete-a-tete_ should have no
+one to mar its course.
+
+But the little bit of grit had, as is often the case, made its way into
+the mechanism, and the wheels had so suddenly come to a stoppage that
+the baronet was for the moment utterly confounded.
+
+It was only a few minutes before that, in the dining room, Alison had
+for about the fifth time consulted his watch, and then said quickly:
+
+"There, old chap, it's all right now.  She will be alone in the drawing
+room, so off with you, and say all you like."
+
+"You think the old man will not make any objection--on account of his
+illness, you know?"
+
+"Not an objection.  Never fear.  There, quick; be off."
+
+"What a hurry you are in!"
+
+"Well, you wished me to be," said Alison sharply, and hardly able to
+keep from referring again to his watch.
+
+"Humph!  Yes," said the baronet; and they parted, each to follow out his
+plans, which seemed too well made to fail.
+
+"Take me to my room now," whispered Isabel, as she clung tightly to her
+protectress, whose face was bent down so that her lips rested upon the
+girl's wavy hair.  "I will not stay here to be insulted," she cried, as
+indignation was beginning fast to take the place of fear.  "It is
+shameful.  It is too cruel of Aunt Anne.  She left me on purpose."
+
+"Hush! hush, my child! be calm," whispered Elisia, in whom a strange
+sense of elation was growing fast, as she felt the ever tightening
+clutch of the agitated girl.  "There is no need to let others know.  You
+are quite safe now."
+
+"Yes, I know," cried Isabel hysterically; "but where is Neil? where is
+my brother?  He promised so faithfully to stay--to keep by me--to--oh,
+nurse, nurse," she sobbed, as she gave way now to a fit of weeping that
+was almost childlike in its intensity, "pray, pray go with me to my
+room."
+
+"Directly, dear; but try and be calm first.  Think of the servants.  For
+your father's sake."
+
+"Yes; I'm better now," sighed Isabel with childlike simplicity, as she
+turned to dart a defiant look at Sir Cheltnam, who had been fuming with
+rage and surprise at the interruption, and who had made several attempts
+to gain a hearing, but had been till now completely ignored.
+
+As he saw Isabel's eyes directed toward him at last, he took a step or
+two forward.
+
+"You foolish girl," he said, with a forced laugh; "how can you be so
+absurd?  Here," he continued; "you are the nurse, I suppose--Mr
+Elthorne's attendant?"
+
+A thrill ran through Elisia's frame, and she started slightly, but she
+did not change her position--keeping her lips pressed on the girl's soft
+hair, as she held her tightly to her breast.
+
+"Do you hear, woman?" cried Sir Cheltnam.  "I am speaking to you.  How
+dare you force your way into the drawing room like this?"
+
+She made no answer, but drew a long, deep breath, while Isabel clung
+more tightly.
+
+"Don't--don't take any notice," she whispered.  "How dare he!  He has no
+right to speak to you.  Don't--don't leave me."
+
+A gentle pressure of the arm about her made Isabel utter a sigh of
+relief.
+
+"Isabel!" cried Sir Cheltnam.  "How can you be so foolish, dear?  Send
+this woman away.  It is too absurd."
+
+"Come," said Elisia in a low voice; and then, as if to herself, "I
+cannot speak to him.  Come, my dear; I will take you to your room."
+
+"Ridiculous!" cried Sir Cheltnam angrily, for he caught her last words.
+"Isabel, my child, how can you be so silly?  For Heaven's sake, have
+some self-respect--some for me, your affianced husband."
+
+He spoke in a low, earnest tone, now, and tried to take one of her
+hands.
+
+"Do you hear me?" he continued, with a touch of anger in his tones.
+"Can you not see that this woman is bound to go and repeat all she has
+seen?  You are behaving like a little schoolgirl.  This will be the talk
+of the servants' hall.  For your father's sake, do try and be sensible.
+There, my good woman, you see that you are not wanted here; have the
+goodness to go."
+
+To his rage and astonishment, Elisia averted her face more from him,
+and, utterly ignoring his presence, led Isabel toward the door; but,
+before they could reach it, he interposed, and placed his back against
+the panel.
+
+"Stop!" he cried angrily.  "Isabel, my child, this wretched scene must
+come to an end.  You are making us both too ridiculous.  Leave this
+woman, and order her to go.  Tell her it was all a wretched mistake, and
+that she had no business to intrude."
+
+"No, no," said Isabel huskily.  "It is not a mistake."  Then, in a
+whisper to Elisia, "Pray, pray don't listen to what he says.  Why is not
+Neil here?"
+
+"Am I to ring for the servants, and have you turned out of the room?"
+cried Sir Cheltnam furiously.  "Do you hear me?  Miss Elthorne does not
+require your presence, and I order you to go."
+
+No answer, but the face kept resolutely averted.
+
+"You are a stranger here, and I suppose Miss Elthorne's cry startled
+you.  I now tell you that your interference was uncalled for.  I am Sir
+Cheltnam Burwood, and this lady is to be my wife."
+
+"No, no!" cried Isabel excitedly.  "Never, never!  This way, nurse.
+Come through the conservatory."  She was full of eagerness now, and
+seemed to have cast off her girlish timidity as she tried to drag her
+protectress toward the open door.  But Sir Cheltnam was too quick for
+her.
+
+"You foolish girl!" he cried, as he caught her by the wrist, and, by a
+quick, sharp movement, literally plucked her away from Elisia, and stood
+between them, pointing to the door.
+
+"There has been enough of this," he cried angrily.  "Now, my good woman,
+go!"
+
+Up to this moment Elisia had not looked him full in the face, but had
+kept her eyes bent down as at first, and turned away from where the
+shaded lamps shed their subdued light.
+
+Sir Cheltnam had attributed this to fear, and, blaming himself for want
+of decision, he now stood in a commanding attitude, expecting that he
+would be obeyed; but to his astonishment, he saw the nurse slowly raise
+her head, draw herself up proudly, and step toward him.  As her face
+came now into the light, and he met a pair of flashing, indignant eyes
+fixed on his, he started violently and loosed his grasp on Isabel's
+wrists, leaving her free to take refuge once more half behind Elisia, as
+she clung to her arm.  "You!" he said hoarsely, as he took a step back.
+"You order _me_ to go, Cheltnam Burwood!" said Elisia sternly.  "You,
+whose presence in this room is an outrage--an insult to an English
+lady."
+
+"You--here?" he faltered.
+
+"Yes--I--here," she said coldly, as she passed her arm round Isabel and
+drew her close--"here to protect this poor motherless girl from such a
+man as you.  Mr Elthorne must have been ignorant of your true character
+when he admitted you to his house, doubly ignorant when he allowed you
+to address his child."
+
+There was a look of tenderness that was almost maternal in her eye as
+she looked down at Isabel, whose eyes sought hers wonderingly.
+
+Sir Cheltnam made a desperate effort to recover himself, but it was so
+feeble that Elisia laughed contemptuously.
+
+"Who is this woman, Isabel, that she dares--"
+
+But he did not finish his sentence.  The mocking laugh froze the words
+on his lips, and he gave an impatient stamp upon the floor as Elisia
+went on, with every word she uttered stinging him by its contemptuous
+tone.
+
+"Mr Elthorne lies upstairs perfectly helpless, but at a word from me he
+has those who will obey his wishes, and Sir Cheltnam Burwood will be
+thrust from the door with the disgrace that is his due.  Go, sir, before
+I am compelled to speak and tell Mr Elthorne the full story of your
+life--of your conduct toward the trusting girl who was to have been your
+wife.  You have no doubt as to Mr Elthorne's judgment, and what his
+decision will be."
+
+Burwood stood glaring at her, with teeth and hands clenched, as if
+utterly cowed by the eyes which gazed firmly into his.  He tried to
+speak again and again, and his lips parted, but no words came.  There
+were moments when the whole scene appeared to him like a nightmare
+which, after a time, he would shake off, for it was impossible, he told
+himself, that he could be awake, face to face with her.  Her presence
+was a myth; she could not, he said to himself, be present there in Ralph
+Elthorne's house, and in the guise of a hospital nurse.  It was all a
+dream.  In his excitement since dinner, as he sat with Alison, waiting
+for the time when he should find Isabel alone, he must have unknowingly
+drunk too much wine, and this was the result--this waking dream--this
+strange mental aberration which would soon pass away.
+
+And as these thoughts crowded through his disordered brain, he threw
+back and shook his head, as if expecting that this act would clear away
+the mist which troubled him.  But no: there she stood--that woman whom
+he had sworn to love--fixing his eyes, so that he could not tear them
+away; and, after vainly and silently fighting for the mastery, striving
+to beat down that firm, accusing gaze, he muttered an imprecation,
+turned hastily, and seized the handle of the door.  But he snatched his
+hand away instantly and strove to make another effort as he swung
+sharply round.
+
+"Isabel," he cried, "I swear to you--pray listen to me--I vow and
+declare, dear--this woman--this--"
+
+He faltered in his speech, his words trailed off, becoming more and more
+disconnected, and he stopped short, for the stern, fixed gaze never left
+him, the beautiful eyes literally mastered him, and after trying to coin
+some excuse, utter some words which should bring Isabel to his side, he
+ground his teeth savagely, turned, and literally rushed from the room.
+
+For a time no sound was heard in the drawing room where Elisia stood,
+clasping Isabel more tightly than ever to her breast; and, as they
+listened, they heard the hurried steps of Sir Cheltnam crossing the
+hall, then the great door closed heavily, and the hurried steps were
+heard again upon the gravel of the drive, growing more and more faint,
+till finally they died away, and Isabel uttered a low, catching sigh of
+relief.
+
+"Oh, nurse--Nurse Elisia!" cried the girl at last, as she looked
+wonderingly in the proud, stern face whose gaze was still directed at
+the closed door, "what can I do to thank you?"
+
+"Thank me with your love."
+
+"Oh, I will, I will; but," she continued timidly, as if hardly daring to
+ask--"but you knew him--you knew this man--before--you came here?"
+
+"Yes, dear, when I was a girl like you, as trusting and as loving.
+Before I became old and hard and stern as I am now.  I met him at a
+famous party; we were introduced, and, in my girlish folly, I thought
+him all that was chivalrous and noble.  He told me he loved me as time
+went on, and I believed him.  We became engaged.  The time drew near
+when he was to have been my husband."
+
+"To have been your husband?" said Isabel, looking at the speaker
+wonderingly.
+
+"Yes; to have been my husband, dear, and the wedding gifts came fast.
+Life seemed so joyous to me then; and in another week I should have been
+his wife, but I was stayed from that--in time."
+
+"From that?  In time?"
+
+"Yes.  I say in my blindness I thought him everything that was noble and
+good, and when the truth was brought home to me I would not believe it
+then.  I defended him against all who attacked him, for I said, `It is
+impossible--he loves me too well, and I love him.  No man could be so
+base.'"
+
+"And you found out--was it true--true?"
+
+"You saw him leave us, my child.  He wrecked my life.  Would he have
+gone like that if my words had not been just?"
+
+"Nurse Elisia!"
+
+"No; don't call me that again."
+
+"Not call you that?  What does it all mean?"
+
+"I cannot tell you now, dear.  Think of me always as a very dear friend.
+I am worthy to be called so, and some day I will tell you all my past."
+
+"But--"
+
+"No, no; not now.  Let us go up to your room."
+
+"Yes, before Aunt comes.  I cannot meet her now."
+
+"No; and to-morrow, if your father can bear it, go to him and tell him
+what took place to-night--all that I have said.  He can easily find out
+the truth, and he will not allow Sir Cheltnam Burwood to speak to you
+again."
+
+"You think so?" cried the girl excitedly.
+
+"I know it, dear.  Your father has been hard and obstinate of will, but
+he loves his children as an English gentleman should; and, as a man of
+honour, when he knows all, he will never sanction that man's presence
+here."
+
+"And--when I tell him, you will speak?  It is so terrible.  He will want
+to know all the past."
+
+"No: I cannot be Sir Cheltnam Burwood's accuser, even now."
+
+"You will not speak?"
+
+"My mission is at an end, dear.  It is impossible for me to stay.  I
+shall not be here."
+
+Isabel looked up wonderingly, and then raised her face to kiss Elisia's
+lips as she slowly clasped her neck.
+
+The next moment she was passionately clasped to the nurse's heart.
+
+"God bless you, darling!  Good-bye!" was sobbed in Isabel's ear, and the
+next minute she was alone.
+
+CHAPTER TWENTY NINE.
+
+JUMPING AT CONCLUSIONS.
+
+About half an hour after Isabel and Elisia had parted, Aunt Anne came
+down from her room.  She had tapped gently at her brother's door, which
+was opened by the nurse, who was as calm and self-possessed as ever.
+
+"Mr Elthorne is asleep, madam," she said.
+
+"Ho!" ejaculated Aunt Anne, turning sharply round and continuing her
+way.  "Ralph always is asleep when I want to see him.  I wonder how the
+lovers have got on," she added, as she reached the drawing-room door,
+and stood smiling on the mat before she entered and looked round.
+
+"In the conservatory, I suppose," she said playfully.  "Oh, dear; it
+seems only yesterday when--"
+
+She went straight to the open French window, and peeped in among the
+exotics; then went to one end, then to the other, where the door stood
+wide open leading out on to the terrace and the lawn.
+
+"Now that's carrying matters too far," she said to herself.  "It is not
+etiquette.  Isabel ought to have known better, and Sir Cheltnam should
+not have taken her.  Ah, well, I suppose I must not be too strict at a
+time like this."
+
+She rang the bell for the tea urn, and the butler entered, red hot from
+an exciting conversation with his fellow-servants, who were in full
+debate.
+
+"You had better tell the gentlemen tea is ready when you leave the
+room."
+
+"I beg pardon, ma'am?" said the butler, as he set down the hissing urn.
+
+"I said tell the gentlemen that tea is ready."
+
+"The gentlemen, ma'am?  They are both out."
+
+"Both out?"
+
+"Yes, ma'am.  Smith, the keeper, just looked in, and said he was on his
+rounds, and he met Mr Alison, ma'am, going toward Buckley village, and
+soon after he saw one of the watchers, and he had seen Mr Neil, ma'am,
+walking as fast as he could toward Pinkley Pound."
+
+"Dear me, how strange!" said Aunt Anne.  "No, no, don't shut the window:
+Sir Cheltnam and Miss Elthorne are just outside.  I may as well let him
+see that I know it, and stop the servants' talking," thought Aunt Anne.
+
+The butler stared.
+
+"Well, what is it?"
+
+"Beg pardon, ma'am.  Sir Cheltnam went round to the stables, had his
+horse put to in the dogcart, and drove away more than half an hour ago."
+
+"What?"
+
+"And Maria says that Miss Isabel's locked up in her bedroom, and has
+been there ever so long."
+
+"That will do," said Aunt Anne with asperity; and the butler left the
+room.  "Oh, dear me!" she cried; "the foolish girl!  There must have
+been quite a scene.  She's thinking still of that wretched sailor, and
+poor Ralph will be so angry when he knows.  I suppose I must go and ask
+her to come down."
+
+She went to the bedroom door, but there was no response whatever for
+some time, and then only a brief intimation that her niece was not
+coming down that night.
+
+"Well, I shall certainly give her a very severe talking to in the
+morning," said Aunt Anne, as she sat over her solitary tea.  "As
+self-willed as her father, every bit.  Oh, dear me! how children are
+changed since I was young."
+
+Aunt Anne retired early.  The butler did not, for it was his duty to sit
+up and admit the gentlemen.
+
+Alison returned about half-past eleven, and went at once to his room,
+while the butler once more settled himself down in an easy-chair to
+wait, and went to sleep, awaking in the morning stiff and unrefreshed to
+find that his waiting up had been in vain.
+
+A couple of hours later, when he took in the breakfast, he had two
+announcements to make; but he hesitated, as Isabel had just entered the
+room.
+
+"You can speak out.  What is it?" said Aunt Anne.
+
+"Mr Neil hasn't been back all night, ma'am."
+
+"What?"
+
+"And--"
+
+The butler stopped.
+
+"Well, speak, man; there is nothing wrong?" cried Aunt Anne.
+
+"No, ma'am, I hope not," said the butler; "but the nurse was down quite
+early, ma'am, dressed, and Smithers put the horse to in the light cart,
+and drove her over to the station to catch the early morning train."
+
+"Oh!" ejaculated Aunt Anne; and then, excitedly, "Was she alone?"
+
+"I believe so, ma'am.  Shall I ask?"
+
+"No: there is no need.  I thought it all along.  Eloped.  I knew it
+would be so."
+
+Isabel rose from her seat with flaming cheeks.  "Shame!" she cried
+passionately.  "This, before the servants!  Neil is my brother.  Nurse
+Elisia is my dear friend.  It is not true!"
+
+CHAPTER THIRTY.
+
+SIR DENTON ASTONISHED.
+
+Neil Elthorne could hardly recall the events of the next twenty-four
+hours.  He had some dim recollection of walking blindly on and on, with
+his head throbbing from the mental fever within; of the wind beating
+against him, and the rain feeling cool to his heated brow; and at last
+seeing lights, entering a station, and listening to the dull, heavy rush
+of a coming train--sounds which seemed in accordance with the beating in
+his temples, and the dull, low roar in his brain.
+
+Then he had faint memories of passing swiftly through the dark night,
+with the windows of the compartment in which he sat blurred by the rain,
+and, finally, of gliding into the great, blank, gloomy terminus, an hour
+before day-break, and staggering through it to where cabs were standing
+beneath the great glass arch.  The rattle of the streets sounded faintly
+in his ears, and all appeared strange and terrible, as if he were in
+some fevered dream, from which he awoke at last on the couch in his own
+chambers in Farrow's Inn, to find that it was night again, and that he
+must, like some wounded beast, have mechanically crept back to his lair,
+there to wait until strength returned or the end should come.
+
+He rose mechanically, went out, and made his way to his club, where he
+was faintly conscious that the waiters who brought up his dinner
+exchanged glances, and gazed at him furtively.  Someone came to him,
+too, and asked him if he were unwell, and then, still as if in a dream,
+he rode back to his chambers, and lay down again to sleep.
+
+The long rest brought calm to his confused brain, and he rose late the
+next morning from what more resembled a stupor than a natural sleep.
+
+But he could think and act now.  The madness of his night at home came
+back to him clearly, and he sent a telegraphic message to his father,
+begging him not to be uneasy at his sudden departure, and another far
+longer to his sister asking her forgiveness; that he had been obliged to
+hurry away, and bidding her appeal to her father for help, as being the
+proper course.
+
+"What will she think of me, poor child?" he said to himself, after he
+had dispatched his messages.  "I must write to her.  It was cruel, but I
+could not stay.  I should have gone mad.  Ah, well," he muttered, after
+a time, "it is all over.  Now for work."
+
+There was a peculiar set expression in his countenance as he dressed
+himself carefully--a very necessary preparation after many hours of
+neglect--and, taking a cab, had himself driven to Sir Denton Hayle's,
+where he was obliged to wait for some time before he could obtain an
+interview, and then only for a few minutes.
+
+Those were sufficient, though.
+
+"Ah, Elthorne, back again?  How is the father?"
+
+"Much better."
+
+"That's right.  Then you have come back to work."
+
+Neil did not answer for a few moments.
+
+"You asked me to take that post, Sir Denton," he said at last.
+
+"Yes, my dear boy, I did; but don't say you have repented now it is too
+late."
+
+"Is it too late?" said Neil sadly.
+
+"Yes: another appointment has been made, and the man sails in a week."
+
+"I am sorry," said Neil slowly.  "I have thought better of the offer
+now, and I was prepared to go."
+
+They parted, and he went back to his chambers to think, and form some
+plans for his future.
+
+Two hours later he was surprised by the coming of Sir Denton, the old
+man looking flushed and excited as he entered the room.
+
+"You, sir!"
+
+"Yes, my boy.  I have been and seen the man appointed, and he jumps at
+the chance of getting out of it.  He says that he has the offer of a
+better thing, which is all nonsense.  The fact is that he is afraid of
+the venture.  Now there must be no trifling, Elthorne: it must be a
+frank, manly yes, or no.  Stop; let me tell you again what it really
+means.  Then you can say whether you will go.  First, there is a great
+deal of risk."
+
+"Yes, I suppose so."
+
+"The coast is a deadly one for Europeans; the society is not all that
+could be desired; and the man who goes must be a bit of a hero in the
+strife."
+
+"Then you want a better man."
+
+"No: I want you.  You are the man, but I cannot let you definitely say
+_yes_ without letting you see all your risk."
+
+"Bah, Sir Denton!" cried Neil.  "What has a doctor or a surgeon to do
+with risk?  You would not say to a man, `Don't go to that house to
+attend the husband or wife: it is a horribly infectious fever.'"
+
+"No; certainly not."
+
+"Or, `That man who has been crushed by a fall of rock will bleed to
+death, if a surgeon does not risk his own life by going to his help:
+don't go.'"
+
+"No," replied Sir Denton quietly; "the world treats us very coolly, and
+gives us very little credit for what we do."
+
+"The world saves all its honours for its soldiers," said Neil, smiling.
+
+"In uniform," said Sir Denton, "and does not recognise the fact that we,
+too, are soldiers, fighting the invisible enemy, Death."
+
+"There, say no more, my dear old tutor," cried Neil eagerly.  "I have
+made up my mind to go, accepting all risks, and I hope I shall fulfill
+your wishes and prove worthy of your trust."
+
+"I have no fear of that, Elthorne, my dear boy.  I know you too well.
+You will go, and your going will be the saving of thousands of lives in
+the future, while as to yourself, disease generally passes by the busy,
+active, and careful.  You will go, then?"
+
+"There is my hand."
+
+Sir Denton grasped the young surgeon's hand warmly.
+
+"God bless you, my boy, and your work!" he said, with his voice slightly
+husky.  "But now tell me of yourself.  This sudden change of front?  The
+lady--she has refused you?"
+
+Neil nodded and remained silent for a few moments.  Then, turning, with
+a sad smile on his face:
+
+"It was only a vain dream, my dear old friend.  I loved, and forgot, in
+my blindness, that I was not a frank, handsome man of the world; that I
+was only a dull, thoughtful student, with few of the qualities that
+please women.  She would have none of me, and perhaps she was wise."
+
+"No," said Sir Denton sharply; "there was no wisdom in the woman who
+would refuse you.  Some giddy, dress-loving, shallow creature, who--"
+
+Neil held up his hand.
+
+"No," he said fervently.  "The wisest, sweetest, and most refined lady
+that ever breathed."
+
+"Ah!" exclaimed Sir Denton.  "I was glad a few minutes ago, for I
+thought you had had an escape; that, like so many more able men, you had
+been dazzled by the outside of some bright, fashionable butterfly.  Now
+I can condole with you.  Then there must have been a reason--another was
+in the way?"  Neil was silent.
+
+"Ah, that is bad.  Well, out of the bad good often comes, my dear boy.
+You see how fatherly I have grown toward you, Elthorne; and some day I
+may, after all, be able to congratulate you on a happy union."
+
+"Never, sir."
+
+"Who knows?" said the old surgeon, smiling.  "Well, I am no matchmaker,
+only your old friend and master, and I speak very plainly to you.  Do
+you know, Elthorne, that there is one woman in the world whom I have
+often thought should be your wife?"
+
+Neil looked at him wildly.
+
+"A refined, graceful lady, with a heart of gold, if you could win her.
+I have seen little things, too, at times, which have made me think that
+my hopes would bear fruit."
+
+Neil half turned away, and the old man sat tapping the top of his hat
+with the tips of his thin, white fingers, as he went on dreamily.
+
+"I ought not to have given my mind to such matters, but the thoughts
+came unbidden, and I said to myself, it would be the perfection of a
+union; and, old bachelor as I am, I would have given her away as if she
+had been my own child."
+
+Neil's head began to droop, but the old man's mind was so deeply
+immersed in the subject nearest his heart that he did not see the change
+in his pupil's face.
+
+"Like the meddlesome old idiot I was, I snatched at the opportunity of
+bringing you together, and insisted upon her coming down to your
+father's place to tend him."
+
+A low sigh escaped from Neil's breast.
+
+"For I said to myself: the old man will see her and learn her value, and
+the sweetness of her nature.  He will be ready to open his arms to her,
+and call her daughter when the son has spoken to her; and I thought I
+was doing right to you both.  Neil, my lad, you ought to have had more
+confidential moments with me, and told me that you already loved.  I had
+no right to know, my dear boy, but it would have saved much pain.  I
+love Lady Cicely very dearly--as much as if she were my own flesh and
+blood."
+
+Neil looked up at the old man wonderingly, but he was gazing down at his
+hat.
+
+"Yes, bless her!" he continued, repeating his words, "as if she were my
+own flesh and blood; and this misfortune--I can call it nothing else--
+hurts me very much, and I am certain it will grieve her terribly, for
+she loves you, my boy, I am sure."
+
+"My dear Sir Denton--Lady Cicely?" cried Neil, looking at him as if
+doubting his sanity.  "Whom do you mean?"
+
+"Oh!  I had forgotten.  Of course you do not know--Lady Cicely, the late
+Duke of Atheldene's daughter--Nurse Elisia--my dear young friend, who
+gave up her life of luxury and ease to devote herself as you have seen."
+
+"Sir Denton!"
+
+"Yes, my dear boy, it is so.  Don't look at me as if you thought I were
+wandering.  That was my castle in the air, Neil Elthorne, and I am
+deeply grieved for both your sakes.  Ah, how easily we clever men, as we
+think ourselves, are deceived.  But, as your old friend, my boy, may I
+ask--some lady--in your neighbourhood--an attachment, perhaps, of many
+years?"
+
+Neil looked at him wildly and his lips were quivering with the agony
+still so new.
+
+"I beg your pardon, my dear boy," said Sir Denton softly.  "I ought not
+to have laid my hand so roughly on the wound.  Forgive me."
+
+Neil remained silent for a few minutes, and Sir Denton rose to go.
+
+"There, then, my dear boy," he said in a different tone, "I consider,
+then, that the appointment is settled and you will go?"
+
+"Yes, Sir Denton.  My preparations will be very few.  I shall be ready
+to go by this vessel if the authorities are willing."
+
+"And God speed you in your work!"
+
+"And God speed me in my work!" said Neil solemnly.
+
+Sir Denton grasped the young surgeon's hand, holding it firmly.
+
+"Come and dine with me to-night, and we'll have a long chat over it.  I
+dare say I can give you a few useful hints.  I must go to the hospital
+now.  Good-bye for the present."
+
+But Neil held his hand firmly still.
+
+"Wait a moment," he said hoarsely.  "You accuse me of want of confidence
+in you.  I am not the kind of man who babbles about the strongest
+feeling of his nature."
+
+"No, no, my dear boy; forgive me.  And I ought not to have torn open
+your wound again by my thoughtless question."
+
+"I will confide in you now, Sir Denton."
+
+"No, no, my dear boy.  Leave it all unsaid."
+
+"No; there is no time like the present.  You ought to know, and I can
+never revive the subject again.  Possibly, in the future, the
+opportunity may never come."
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"I am not blind to the risk of going to such a place.  I don't suppose I
+shall return."
+
+"My dear boy, if you are going to take that morbid view of the task,"
+cried Sir Denton, "you shall not go.  But pish! you are low-spirited now
+from the refusal you have had.  Work, man, work.  _Au revoir_."
+
+"Sir Denton," said Neil gravely, "you must know the truth now.  In
+ignorance of her early life, I loved Nurse Elisia very dearly."
+
+"Then, my dear boy--" cried the old man excitedly.
+
+"Stop, sir; you were mistaken.  I asked her to be my wife."
+
+"Mistaken?  She refused you?  Impossible!"
+
+"No, sir; it is the simple fact."
+
+"But--you hinted, or I said--dear me, how confused I am--that the lady
+you proposed to, refused you--a prior attachment--another gentleman?"
+
+"Yes; my own brother."
+
+Sir Denton stood gazing in Neil's face for some moments before he spoke
+again, and then in a weary, helpless way he said sadly:
+
+"And I have been studying human nature all through my long life, to find
+myself an ignorant pretender after all.  Let me go and think.  Refused
+you?--your brother?  Ah, well--till to-night, my dear boy--and after all
+I thought--There, there, it is only the body I have been studying, not
+the soul.  Bless my heart!" he muttered, as he went down to his
+carriage: "and I felt so sure.  Ah, dear me--dear me! it takes a
+cleverer man than I to read a woman through and through."
+
+CHAPTER THIRTY ONE.
+
+THE CLOUDS DISPELLED.
+
+Neil Elthorne was more himself as a cab set him down at Sir Denton
+Hayle's that evening, where the quiet, old-fashioned butler received him
+in a solemn, old-fashioned way, and ushered him at once into his
+master's study, for, though there was a fire and lights in the great
+first-floor drawing room, they were only for form's sake, when the old
+surgeon had company; and upon occasions like the present it was almost
+certain not to be used.
+
+Sir Denton received his pupil as warmly as if he had been his son, and
+they were soon after seated face to face in the gloomy dining room,
+where the table was reduced to the smallest proportions to which it
+could be screwed.
+
+It was a thoroughly good, old-fashioned dinner, at which the butler
+handed very old East India sherry, which was hardly touched; and, after
+clearing the cloth, left on the nearly black, highly polished table,
+three massive silver decanter stands, in which glowed, like liquid gems,
+port, claret, and burgundy.
+
+These shared the fate of the sherry, and stood untouched, while, now
+that they were alone, the important subject of the appointment was
+discussed, and Sir Denton gave his views concerning the mission.
+
+"Yes; it makes me wish I were thirty years younger, Neil," said the old
+surgeon.  "People talk about it as a forlorn hope, but I maintain that
+there is victory to be won, and I am sure that you will win it.  People
+are dying off as we read of their dropping away during the plague.
+There must be a reason for this, and you are going to discover it, and
+put a stop to this terrible bill of mortality.  Ah, I wish I were going
+with you to work hand in hand, advising and asking advice."
+
+"I wish you were going, sir," said Neil quietly.  "Too old--too old, my
+dear boy--much too old.  Now tell me, where shall you attack the demon
+first?"
+
+"Clean out his den," said Neil, smiling.
+
+"Good; of course.  Sanitation.  An Augean task, my young Hercules, but
+that is it.  People will not believe it, but dirt is the nursery bed for
+most of the germs of disease; and the wonder to me is, not that so many
+people in our more crowded parts are smitten down, but how they manage
+to live.  Now where you are going, that deadly fever runs riot.  I do
+not believe it could ever exist if everything possible were done to
+cleanse the place."
+
+"I suppose not," said Neil thoughtfully.
+
+"It could not.  I've been thinking it all over, my dear boy, and I have
+no fear whatever for you.  Work will keep you healthy; and now I suppose
+you would like me to give you a couple of valuable recipes in which I
+have enormous faith."
+
+"By all means," said Neil eagerly.  "Will you write them down?"
+
+"No: you can remember them.  As to quantities, give them _a
+discretion_--extravagantly.  Here they are: pure water and whitewash.
+They are death destroyers, my dear boy, and--bless me, I did not want to
+be disturbed this evening."
+
+The butler entered the room and went up behind his master's chair.
+
+"I am too much engaged to see anyone," said the old man testily.
+
+The butler said a few words in a low tone.
+
+"Bless me!  Oh, yes; of course.  I'll come directly.  Will you excuse me
+for a few minutes, Elthorne?  Pray help yourself to wine."
+
+"Certainly," replied Neil, and the old man went hurriedly out of the
+room, leaving his guest to his thoughts, and he sat there with rugged
+brow thinking over the past and his future, and asking himself whether
+he, a surgeon, had done right in accepting the post.
+
+His musings were long, for the few minutes extended into an hour, but;
+he did not notice the lapse of time.  There was so much to think about.
+His father?  Well, he could have done no more if he had stayed.  His
+sister?  That difficulty would settle itself, for, girl as she was,
+Isabel had plenty of their father's will and determination; and he felt
+sure that she would never marry one man while she loved another.
+
+His brother?
+
+He drew his breath hard, and the struggle within him was long, but he
+mastered his feelings at last, and calmly and dispassionately reviewed
+the matter.
+
+There was nothing unfair.  His brother had not taken any mean advantage
+of him.  He had been struck by the woman he loved at their first
+encounter, and what wonder?  No: there had been nothing unfair.  It had
+been a race between them, and his brother had won the prize.
+
+His duty stood out plainly enough before him, but he was weak, and it
+was hard to do that duty.  Some day--it would be years first in this
+case--he would look her in the face, and take her hand as his sister,
+and grasp his brother's hand with all due warmth.  But not yet--not yet.
+He must have time, and he felt that he would act wisely in going right
+away.
+
+There was a sad pleasure in reviewing these events of the past, and
+there was a kind of solace in being alone there in that gloomy room, so
+shut in that the rattle of wheels in the square outside sounded subdued
+and calming to his weary spirit.  He began thinking then once more of
+the future, of the great battle he had to fight.
+
+"And I will fight manfully," he said softly, as he sat gazing at the
+fire, "against self as well as against disease.  And if I fall--well,
+better men die daily.  I shall have done some good first, and I will
+fight to the last."
+
+His chin sank down upon his breast, and he sat there picturing in
+imagination the place to which he was going.  How long he had been
+thinking thus he did not know, and he felt half resentful as Sir
+Denton's hand was laid lightly on his shoulder.
+
+"Asleep?"
+
+"Oh, no: only thinking deeply."
+
+"Of--of--" said the old man nervously.
+
+"Of my work, sir?  The great work to come?  Yes."
+
+"That's right--that's right, my dear boy; but you have had no wine.  I'm
+so sorry I was called away, but you will forgive me, I know."
+
+"Don't name it, Sir Denton," said Neil quietly.  "I have had so much to
+think about that the time has not seemed long."
+
+"Indeed?  It has to me.  But fill your glass, my dear boy--a glass of
+port."
+
+Neil shook his head.
+
+"Then I think," said Sir Denton in a hurried, nervous way, "we will go
+up to the drawing room.  It is getting late--the--er--the butler was
+waiting at the door as I came down--er--to clear away."
+
+"And your patient?" said Neil, making an effort to take an interest in
+his host's affairs.  "Better?"
+
+"Eh?  My patient?  Yes, yes, I think so.  Along interview, though."
+
+He led the way to the door, and then up the broad staircase of the great
+sombre old house, but only to halt on the landing.
+
+"Go in," he said.  "I will join you soon."
+
+Neil entered slowly, and the door was closed behind him, as he went on
+across the wide, dim room to where a fire glowed.  His eyes were cast
+down, and the place was so feebly lit by the shaded lamps and a pair of
+wax candles that he had reached the middle before he became aware that a
+figure in black had risen from a chair by the fire and was standing
+supporting itself by one hand resting upon the great marble mantelpiece.
+
+Neil stopped short, with his heart beating violently.  Then, after
+taking a couple of steps forward with outstretched hands, he checked
+himself again.
+
+"You here?" he cried hoarsely; and he crossed to the other side of the
+fireplace.  "Sir Denton did not tell me.  I did not know."
+
+"I have been here more than an hour," was said in a low voice which
+trembled slightly.
+
+There was a pause, during which Neil fought hard with the feeling--half
+indignation that he should have been forced into such a situation--half
+despair.
+
+"You have left my father, then," he said at last, in an unnaturally calm
+voice.
+
+"Yes: my work was ended.  There was no need for me to stay."
+
+Again there was a pause which neither seemed to possess the power to
+break, and the indignant feeling rose hotter in Neil's breast.  For a
+moment he felt that he must turn and quit the room, but the anger passed
+off, and he stood firm, grasping the edge of the mantelpiece, and
+mentally calling himself coward and utterly wanting in nerve.
+
+"My brother's betrothed," he muttered; "my brother's betrothed!" and he
+tried to picture her before him as something holy--as the woman who was
+soon to occupy the position of sister, with all that had passed between
+them forgotten--dead forever.
+
+And that terrible silence continued till there was the sound of a
+carriage approaching, reaching the house, and causing a faint rattling
+of one of the windows, after which it passed on with a strange, hollow,
+metallic sound, which died away gradually, when the silence seemed to
+have grown ten times more painful, and the failing fire fell together
+with a musical tinkle.  Then a few glowing cinders dropped through the
+grating, and as Neil watched them where they lay on the grey hearth, he
+saw them gradually turn black, and compared them to the passion in his
+breast.
+
+"Like the glowing ashes of my poor love," he thought, as the painful
+silence continued, for still neither felt that it was possible to speak.
+
+"If Sir Denton would only come and end this madness!" thought Elisia.
+"If this agony would only end, I could go back to my poor sufferers--and
+oblivion."
+
+The clock on the mantel suddenly gave one stroke to indicate the half
+hour, and the clear, sharp ring of its silvery toned bell vibrated
+through the room, its tones seeming as if they would never cease.  Then
+all was silence once again, till, making an effort, the trembling woman
+spoke in a low, pained voice, which she strove hard to render firm: "Sir
+Denton tells me, Mr Elthorne--"
+
+She stopped, for a deep breath escaped from Neil's breast, sounding like
+a faint groan of relief.
+
+"I beg your pardon," he said coldly.
+
+"Sir Denton tells me," she said again, but more firmly, for his tone
+irritated her over-strung nerves, "that you have accepted an appointment
+to go out to one of the most unhealthy places on the West Coast."
+
+The spell was broken, and he could speak out now firmly and well.
+
+"Yes," he said, with a feeling of eager joy that they were off dangerous
+ground.  "I suppose the place is unhealthy, for the suffering there is
+terrible.  It has been full of horrors, but I hope to change all that."
+
+"And the risk--to your life?"
+
+He laughed--harshly, it sounded to her--and she shrank away at his next
+words, but still clutched the marble mantelpiece.
+
+"This from you?" he said; and she thought it was meant as a reproach,
+but his next words gave her confidence.  "Why, you would go into any
+plague-stricken place without shrinking, or realising the danger."
+
+"Yes," she said softly, "if it were necessary.  I hope so."
+
+"Well, then, why should I hesitate?  I hope I shall not suffer.  It
+would be a pity," he continued, quite calmly now, and his words seemed
+unimpassioned and dreamy in their simplicity.  "If I died, I suppose it
+would be a loss to the poor people out there, whom I hope to save.  They
+might have a difficulty in getting another man."
+
+"Yes," she said, with a shudder.  "Sir Denton tells me that he has had
+great trouble in filling the appointment."
+
+"I suppose so.  Yes: he told me."
+
+There was another pause.
+
+"Ought you to go?" she said at last, and her voice was not so firm.
+
+"Certainly," he replied rather bitterly.  "I have nothing to lose except
+my life."
+
+"You have those at home who love you--sister, father."
+
+"Poor little Isabel!  Yes, but she has one who loves her.  My father is
+sure to yield to circumstances there.  It is of him I think most.  I
+shall ask you to be kind to him, as you always have been.  He will grow
+more exacting, I fear, as the years roll on; but you will see him
+occasionally.  He likes you; his liking will grow into love, and he will
+take your advice.  Will you do this for me?"
+
+She made no reply, and as silence was gathering round them again, he
+hastened to break it and fight back the thoughts that would arise.
+
+"I shall be grateful for anything you in your experience can do for him
+to make life pass more easily; and you will help and counsel my little
+sister, too.  She must not marry a fox hunting squire."
+
+Still no answer, and he went on hurriedly.
+
+"I shall not go down again.  I start so very soon.  It would only be
+painful to them; and I shall be very busy making preparations till the
+ship sails."
+
+She stood there, clinging to the cold stone, and he went on in the same
+hurried way.
+
+"It is a grand work, and Heaven knows I wish I were more capable.  There
+will be so much to do.  I shall have to start a hospital, even in the
+humblest way at first, and let it grow by degrees.  There will be a
+great deal of prejudice, too, to overcome, but it will be satisfactory
+to master all these difficulties one by one.  And I will!" he cried with
+energy.  "Yes: Sir Denton is right," he added enthusiastically; "it will
+be a grand work, and I long to get there and begin."
+
+"And you will go without fear," she said, as if she were speaking a
+solemn truth.
+
+"I hope so," he said humbly; "but man is very weak.  There, I am going,
+weak or strong, and I think you know me enough to believe that I shall
+do my best."
+
+"Yes, I know that," she said gravely, and her voice was very low and
+sweet.
+
+"Thank you.  It encourages me," he said cheerfully.  "You will give me
+your prayers for my success, I know."
+
+"Indeed, yes," she said, as she looked up at him, and he saw her eyes
+were wet with tears.
+
+"Don't--don't do that," he said huskily.  "It is nothing to grieve for.
+I only say, forgive me for all the mistaken past, and--"
+
+His emotion choked him for the moment, but he struggled bravely to go
+on:
+
+"And I pray God to bless you in your future, and make you very happy,
+dear.  It is your brother speaking to his sister, and my words now are
+an honest and self-denying as ever man spoke."
+
+"I know it," she said, with quivering lips, and her sweet voice thrilled
+him and made him falter; but he fought on.  "I have known for long that
+you could speak nothing but the honest truth."
+
+"Thank you," he said quickly; "thank you.  You and I have worked
+together long now, and have had some triumphs of which we might boast.
+Where _is_ Sir Denton?  He ought to come, and we could chat over all of
+my projects.  I shall write to you, of course, and tell you all I am
+doing, and you can give me a word or two of advice, perhaps.  Why,
+nurse--I beg your pardon--Lady Cicely--your name sounds strange to me, I
+have so lately heard it from Sir Denton--how grateful we all ought to be
+for your devotion to our good cause.  Forgive me for speaking so."
+
+She seemed plunged in thought, and not to hear his words, and he
+started, as she spoke now in alow, soft, dreamy way, as if uttering the
+thoughts that had occupied her for the past few minutes.
+
+"You are going out possibly to your death, Neil Elthorne," she said.
+
+"That is the worst that can happen."
+
+"No," she said softly, "not the worst.  You are going yonder to fight
+with disease, forsaking all who love you, offering up your own life as a
+sacrifice, that yonder poor stricken creatures may live."
+
+"Heaven only knows," he said solemnly.
+
+"You are going alone, to face the horrors of a pestilence without the
+help such as you find here."
+
+"Yes, but I shall soon get assistance, and till then I must do my best."
+
+She looked across at him where he stood, and again that dim room was
+silent, so that the slightest sound would have been a relief.
+
+"Are you fixed upon going?" she said at last; and then she started, for
+his voice rang out now strongly.  "Yes," he cried, "I must."
+
+"Alone, with no hand to help you to fight this good fight?  No: you must
+not go alone.  Take me with you.  I will go."
+
+He started from the chimney-piece, for a wildly delirious thought made
+his brain reel; but she stood there before him, pale and calm, as if the
+words she had uttered were of the simplest kind.
+
+He made almost a superhuman effort over self as he felt that the mad
+thought within him must be crushed.
+
+"No," he said coldly; "your love for the profession you embraced leads
+you astray.  I shall find nurses there.  What, you?" he cried almost
+fiercely.  "Woman, your place is here."
+
+She took a step toward him, and held out her hands, and her voice was
+very low.
+
+"I thought all that was dead for me," she almost whispered, "that the
+past had burned my heart to ashes, and I have fought long and hard to do
+my duty in the path that I had marked out for my own through life.  I
+did not know.  Neil, how could you misjudge me so!"
+
+He seemed to stagger at her words; his lips moved, but no sound came,
+and when at last he spoke, his voice sounded hoarse and strange.
+
+"But Alison--my brother?" he cried.
+
+"Alison--your brother!" she said softly, and with a trace of scorn in
+her tones.  "How could you be so blind!"
+
+Neil started violently, and gazed at the pained face before him.
+
+"Am I mad?" he muttered; and then aloud: "Be so blind--I blind?  What do
+you mean?  In Heaven's name, speak!"
+
+She looked at him fixedly, with her eyes contracting, but she spoke no
+word.
+
+"Do you hear me?" he cried fiercely.  "You do not answer, Elisia--my
+brother?  No, no, I am not blind.  I knew--I saw--he loved you from the
+first hour he saw you.  You cannot deny it.  Is that false?  Am I
+blind?"
+
+"In that, no," she said coldly.  "Well, what is that to me?  Could I
+help the insane folly of the man who persecuted me, as you say, from the
+hour of my arrival at your house?"
+
+"But," he cried in a low, hoarse whisper, "I have seen and believed--
+believed, but not without seeing.  Elisia, for pity's sake, tell me--
+have I been so blind?"
+
+"In reading me, yes.  Neil, how could you think that I could ever love
+your brother?  You ought to have known it was impossible."
+
+"Hush!  What are you saying?" he cried, as he eagerly caught her hands.
+
+"The simple truth," she said gently.  "I have crushed it down, but I
+have loved you long and well."
+
+"No, no," he cried, "for Heaven's sake!  You will drive me mad."
+
+"No," she whispered; "it cannot be unwomanly at a time like this."
+
+"Too late--too late!" and he drew back, covered his face with his hands,
+and let his head fall upon the cold marble at his side.
+
+"No," she whispered, as she clasped her hands, and laid them on his
+shoulder, "it is not too late.  Mine was but a girlish love for one
+unworthy of a thought, and in my youthful weakness I thought that all
+the world was base.  I did not know.  Take me, Neil, husband, as your
+faithful wife.  It is not too late.  We will go there hand in hand, side
+by side, to fight this pestilence."
+
+"What?  Take you there--you?" he cried, as he raised his head, and
+caught her hands--"take you to face that awful scourge?"
+
+"Yes," she cried, raising her head proudly, "side by side with you in
+the awful strife.  God with us, Neil--our faith in his protecting
+shield, as I place mine in you, my brave, true hero--my love--my life."
+
+"Till death do us part," cried Neil, as he clasped her to his breast.
+
+"Amen!" said a solemn voice, and Sir Denton came forward out of the
+darkness, and stopped by their side.  "I thought I was going to the
+grave a childless man," he continued in a broken voice--"my son--my
+daughter.  You have given me afresh lease of life--to live till I see
+you once again.  I say it, children, I, the old prophet: I shall see you
+before I die."
+
+CHAPTER THIRTY TWO.
+
+PEACE AT HIGHTOFT.
+
+Neil Elthorne had not been a month at the West Coast settlement before
+he began to find that the funds placed at his disposal by the home
+authorities would be utterly inadequate for the great work on hand.  He
+was already crippled, and upon taking the sharer of his enterprise into
+his confidence he fully realised for the first time that he had married
+a wealthy wife, and that the accumulations of years of her large income
+were waiting to be utilised as he thought best.
+
+This gave the necessary impulse to his task, and for the next five years
+the warfare was carried on.  With wonderful success?  Yes.  To achieve
+all that he and Lady Cicely desired?  No.  But they fought on, unscathed
+by disease, which swept away its hundreds, leading, as it were, a
+charmed life, till reason forced it upon his busy brain that the time
+had come when he must return.
+
+He had done far more than the most sanguine had expected, and thousands
+lived to bless his name, and that of the brave, true woman ever working
+at his side.
+
+His departure was sudden.  Weakness and a strange languor had attacked
+his wife.  She had hidden her sufferings from him lest she should hinder
+him in his work, but his practiced eye detected her state; and as soon
+as the necessary arrangements could be made, the low, miasmatic tropical
+shore was left behind, and in a vessel rapidly making its way north, the
+change was almost magical.
+
+"So well, dear," said Lady Cicely one bright morning, as the vessel
+rushed onward into purer air, and beneath brighter skies, "that I feel
+as if we ought to return."
+
+"No," he said, taking her hand; "we have done our work there.  We have
+laid the foundation of a new _regime_ of comparative health for our
+colonies, and the inhabitants of that dreadful place; other hands must
+carry on the work.  I shudder now as I think of all that we have gone
+through, and wonder that we are still alive to begin some other task at
+home."
+
+There had been plenty of changes since they had left England, but Sir
+Denton Hayle, apparently not a day older, still paid his visits to the
+ward which bore his name; while Ralph Elthorne, vigorous in health,
+though helpless as a child, was at the station to welcome back his
+children, as he called them, to the old home, where Aunt Anne, grown
+more grey and placid, still kept house, and ignored all the past as she
+took her niece in her arms.
+
+Alison was no longer there.  He had consoled himself a year after his
+brother's departure by marrying Saxa Lydon, instead of Dana, and
+residing at the Grange.  For the younger sister preferred her outdoor
+life, spending half the year at her old home, the other half in
+travelling in so strong-minded a manner that Aunt Anne declared she was
+quite shocked.  As for Saxa, when she decided to be Alison's wife, she
+endowed him with her masculine habits as well as her fortune, for a
+couple of sturdy little _facsimiles_ of her husband brought her to the
+way of thinking that an English wife should be motherly and wise, so
+that on Neil's return a wonderfully warm intimacy sprang up between the
+brothers' wives.
+
+There was another couple at the old home to welcome the sun-burned
+travellers, for Sir Cheltnam Burwood never entered Ralph Elthorne's
+doors again, but passed out of sight entirely, living, it was said, in
+Paris and Baden.  So that when the vicar's son came to Hightoft as
+Captain Beck, his welcome was warm as he could wish, and his patience
+met with its reward.
+
+"That's the worst of it, my dear," said Ralph Elthorne, wrinkling up his
+brow, as he wheeled himself along the drive in the bright sunshine.  "I
+don't want nursing, only helping about, and yet, now you are here, I
+feel sometimes as if I should like to be ill again, to wake up and see
+your dear face watching by my side.  And so Sir Denton resigns his post
+at the hospital to Neil, eh?"
+
+"Yes; and we must go up at once."
+
+"Tut, tut, tut! you seem only just to have come.  Here is Neil.  I say,
+my dear boy: about this hospital.  You don't want money?"
+
+"No, father; certainly not."
+
+"Then throw it up.  Come and settle down here.  I can't spare Cicely.  I
+can't, indeed."
+
+"I'm afraid you must, sir," said Neil, laughing, "unless she says I am
+to go to work alone.  Not a habit of hers, eh, my dear?"
+
+"Bah!  You two are children.  Anyone would think you had been married
+five days ago, instead of five years.  Then look here: I shall give up
+the old place and come and live in town."
+
+"No," said Neil; "only to visit us now and then.  You could not exist
+healthily away from your gardens and your farm.  Besides, Isabel and
+Saxa."
+
+"And your grandchildren," said Lady Cicely.  "There again," the old man
+cried testily, "that's the worst of you two: you are always right.  Is a
+man never to have his own way here?"
+
+"Never, father," said Neil, taking his wife's hand.  "Nature says it is
+not to be done."
+
+"And somehow, my boy, in spite of all our planning, and vexation at
+being thwarted," said the old man, almost in a deprecating way, "things
+do happen for the best."
+
+"That has long been my faith, father, which means my dear wife's too."
+
+"Yes, my boy, and mine too, now at last.  Here, hi!  Ralph, you young
+rascal, come and push grandpa's chair."
+
+Alison's curly-headed little fellow came scampering up, to begin batting
+hard behind the light wheeled chair in which the old man sat; and as
+Neil and his wife saw the old man's glee, there was a faint touch of
+sorrow in the husband's heart, as he thought that it might have been his
+son who was sturdily pushing along the old man's chair.
+
+He turned and looked half shrinkingly at his wife, as he saw that her
+deep eyes were fixed on his, and the next moment he knew that she could
+read the very secrets of his heart.
+
+For she laid her hand on his, and said softly:
+
+"Our children are waiting yonder, Neil, under the black clouds of the
+great city--our children, love--the poor, the suffering, and the weak,
+waiting, waiting for the healing touch of my dear husband's hand."
+
+"And for their pillows to be smoothed by their tender nurse--true
+woman--dearest wife."
+
+The End.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Nurse Elisia, by George Manville Fenn
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 40675 ***