“I can’t stand it any longer,” she said, gazing from one to the other. “Somebody else must go. I can’t stand it. He is not himself, not the very least—so changed. Leo, I can’t understand—will he be always like this? It would be too terrible.”
“Mother, he was pleased to see you?” said Joan, as Dulcibel sank on a sofa.
“Pleased! He just knows me. Oh, it is much worse than I expected! Why was I never told more? Call Marian—quickly please.”
But Marian was gone. Leo began to question whether he had been in the right to yield to Joan’s strong wish, when he found how helpless she was to control Dulcibel in the fit of violent hysterics which followed. “Only Marian knew how,” Nessie said in reproachful accents. “It would not be possible to get on without Marian, if mother were often like this.”
A call from Mr. Brooke.
[CHAPTER XXI.]
AN UNLOOKED-FOR VISITOR.
THE wintry months were at an end, and all over England spring was breaking out into its ever-new beauty.
Banks of primroses and beds of violets might be found within easy distance of Woodleigh and the garden was gay with crocuses.