To herself she murmured a soft suggestive—"'Inasmuch!'"
"Thank you both!" And Bertha flew back to the cab.
Lettice was helped out first, and consigned to Nan—a worn-out child, bewildered with the sadden glare of light and the crowd of strange faces. Her quiet life hitherto had known no such transitions; and the morning strain had told upon her—all the more in appearance, because now she no longer had the pull of responsibility. Nan, obeying a whispered order, took her into the drawing room, and banged the door—which bang woke Lettice up.
"Please let me go. Sissie will want me." She did not know who Nan might be: but the rough grasp hurt her arm, and aroused a latent spirit of opposition. Lettice could be controlled with a rein of silk by those whom she loved: but side by side with her powers of endurance dwelt powers of resistance.
"Let me go, please. She will want me."
"It's all right. They will see to her."
"Sissie doesn't like strangers."
Nan, in answer, set her back against the door, and shook her unkempt hair in a manner somewhat exasperating. The prominent light eyes stared out of the robust face, with wondering interest, into the little pale visage opposite.
"I must go. Nurse Valentine—"
"Pooh! Bertha, you mean."