“Mrs. Rutherford is sleeping now, from the effects of an opiate, and you must watch her carefully. If she should seem in any way worse, call me at once. I shall be in this room, close at hand. Miss Rutherford will be able now to go to her sister.”
“Miss Rutherford!” Did that mean Joan, or was Joan the “sister”?
“Sir, are both the young ladies hurt?” asked Marian in a low voice.
“No; only Miss Brooke.”
She knew the truth at last, but no more could be said. No especial interest might be displayed in Joan; and Mr. Ackroyd was turning the handle of Mrs. Rutherford’s door. A slim, pallid girl came softly to meet them.
“Mother is quite sound still, and not so restless,” she whispered.
“That is right, Nessie. I have found some one to watch by her. You must go and lie down in Joan’s room.”
“Oh, I would rather stay here! Mother needs me most.”
“No, I think not. Joan is feverish, and ought not to be alone; and you want rest.”
Nessie yielded at once. She murmured a few directions to Marian, telling her what the doctor had said and ordered; then moved away with her cousin. Marian held the door open behind them for two seconds, and watched them cross the passage to a door on the other side, within which Nessie disappeared. Joan must be there!