That Stick ...

‘Will it be any comfort to tell you that most likely it would have been too late even if he would have accepted it?  Come, Bertha, how often are we told that we are not to think so much of consequences as of actions, and there was nothing blameworthy in the whole business.’

‘Except that I was such a donkey as not to have begun by asking for the man’s proofs, but I was so much afraid that he would pounce on the child that I only thought of buying him off from time to time.  I did not know I was so weak.  Well, at any rate, with little Mite to the fore, the place will be left in good hands.  I like Herbert on the whole, but to have that woman reigning as Madame Mиre would be awful.’

‘Nay, I trust we are not coming to that!  Trotman says it is a thoroughly severe attack, but not abnormally malignant, as he calls it.  It is a matter of nursing, he tells me, and that he has of the best—a matter of nursing and of prayer, and that,’ added Adela, her eyes filling with tears, ‘I am sure he has.’

‘And yet—and yet,’ Bertha broke off.

‘Ah, you are thinking how we prayed before!  p. 206And yet, Birdie, after these six years of seeing his rule and recognising what mine would have been, I see it was for the best that my own little Michael was taken to his happy home.’

‘You’ll call it for the best now,’ said Bertha grimly.

‘If it be so, it will prove itself; but I really do not see any special cause for extra fear.’

Lady Adela and Bertha both thought themselves as far safe as any one can be with scarlet fever, and would gladly have taken a share in the nursing.  Bertha, however, had far too much of the whirlwind in her to be desirable in a sick house, and on the principle that needless risk was wrong, was never admitted within the house doors, but Lady Adela insisted on seeing Mary every day, and was assured that she should be a welcome assistant in case of need; but at present there was no necessity of calling in other help, the form of fever being lethargic with much torpidity, but no violence of delirium, and requiring no more watching than the wife and nurse could give.

Frank never failed to know his Mary, and to respond when she addressed him; but she was told never to attempt more than rousing him when it was needful to make him take food.  He had long ago, with the precaution of his legal training, made every needful arrangement for her and for his son; and even on the first day, he had not seemed to trouble himself on these points, being too heavy and oppressed for the power of looking forward.  So the days rolled on in one continual watch on Mary’s part, during which she seemed only to live p. 207in the present, and, secure that her boy was safe, would not risk direct communication with him or with his nurse.

Lady Adela had undertaken to keep Constance, the person who really loved her uncle best, daily informed, and she also wrote at intervals to Mrs. Morton, by special desire of Lady Northmoor, and likewise to her own old servant, Eden, the nurse.  She wrote cheerfully, but Eden had other correspondents in the servants’ hall, who dwelt sensationally on the danger, as towards Whitsun week the fever began to run higher towards the crisis, the strength was reduced, the torpor became heavier; and anxiety increased as to whether there would be power of rally in a man who, though healthy, had never been strong.

The anxiety manifested by the entire neighbourhood was a notable proof of the estimation in which the patient was held, and was very far from springing only from pity or humanity.  Half the people who came to Lady Adela for further information had some cause going on in which ‘That Stick’ was one of the most efficient of props.

p. 208CHAPTER XXXI

MITE

Little Michael Morton was in the meantime installed in his aunt’s house.  For him to be anywhere else was not to be thought of, and Mrs. Morton was soft-hearted enough to be very fond of such a bright little boy, so much in her own hands, and very amusing with the old-fashioned formal ways derived from chiefly consorting with older people.

Besides, the pretty little fellow was an object of great interest to all her acquaintances, especially as it was understood at Westhaven that it was only too possible that he might any day become Lord Northmoor; and never had Mrs. Morton’s drawing-room been so much resorted to by visitors anxious for bulletins, or perhaps more truly for excitement.  Mite was a young gentleman of some dignity.  He sat elevated on a hassock upon a chair to dine at luncheon-time, comporting himself most correctly; but his aunt was sorely chafed at Eden’s standing behind his chair, like Sancho’s physician, to regulate his diet, and placing her veto upon lobsters, cucumbers, pastry, and glasses of wine with lumps of sugar in them.