"Sir," she said, taking a step towards him, "will you listen to me for a moment? I promise you that I will go if the doctor says that I am not wanted. You need not fear that I shall force myself upon you. I only ask you to forgive me the fact of being my father's daughter until Mr. Lepel is a little stronger—if the doctor says that I must not leave him yet. When he is better, I vow—I swear that you shall see and hear no more of me! I shall leave the country, and you will never be troubled by me again. But, till then, have pity! Let me help to nurse him; he has been my best friend in the whole world, and I have never yet been able to do anything for him! When he is better, I will go away. Till then, for pity's sake, sir, let me stay!"
Her voice broke; she clasped her hands before her and held down her head to hide her tears. The General, brought to a sudden stop by her appeal to him, eyed her with a mixture of native pity and long-cultivated detestation. He could not but be sorry for her, although she was Westwood's daughter and, by all reports, not much better perhaps than she should be; for he firmly believed in the truth of all Flossy's malignant hints and innuendos. But Cynthia was a handsome woman, and the General was weak; he could not bear to see a handsome woman cry.
"My good girl," he stammered—and then Flossy's significant smile made him stammer all the more—"my girl, I—I do not wish to blame you—personally, of course—not your fault at all—we can't help its being painful, you know."
"Painful—yes," cried Cynthia eagerly; "but pain is sometimes necessary! You will not drive me away from Hubert's bedside if I can be of any use to him?"
"No, no—I suppose not," said the General, melting in spite of himself. "I wouldn't for the world do anything to harm poor Hubert. Suppose we hear what the doctor says?"
Cynthia's hand was on the bell immediately, and Jenkins showed himself at the door without delay.
"Jenkins," she said, "it is very important that we should have the doctor here at once. Mrs. Vane—General Vane—want——"
"Give your own orders, General," said Flossy abruptly. She could not lose a chance of annoying and insulting Cynthia.
"H'm, ha—the doctor, my man," said the General, rather taken aback by the demand upon him—"get us the doctor as soon as you can. Tell him—tell him that Mr. Lepel's relatives are here, and no doubt he will come at once."
There was a little silence in the room when Jenkins had disappeared upon his errand. The General stood, with his hands clasped behind him, looking out of a window; Mrs. Vane had sunk into a chair, in which she lay back, her graceful neck turned aside, as if she wanted to avoid the sight of Cynthia, who meanwhile stood upon the hearthrug, head bent and hands folded, waiting gravely and patiently for what she felt to be the decision on her fate.