"That's Bertha. Didn't you know. Nurse Valentine is our sister. She told your sister you were all right. And the doctor's coming directly: and you couldn't do anything. You're awfully tired, are you not?—You poor little thing!"
"It doesn't matter. If only I could go to Sissie!" pleaded Lettice in distress, as he led her back to the drawing room.
"Now, you listen. I'll promise. If Bertha comes, and says your sister wants you, I won't keep you back. You just lie down on the sofa in this corner, and get half-an-hour's rest. And if you go to sleep, I'll wake you up—I mean, when Bertha says you're wanted. See!—Won't that do? You look as if you hadn't slept for a month past."
Lettice laughed faintly.
"Oh, only three or four nights. I couldn't—much."
"Well, you'll sleep now. Just pull off your hat: and here's a shawl to put over you. You're to have a cup of hot tea—it's waiting now—and then a sleep: and then you'll be fit for anything. And Nan shan't come near you."
"Wallace! As if I meant to hurt her!" gulped a reproachful voice.
"You keep off," growled Wallace: but Lettice held out her hand.
"Don't, please. Nan didn't mean anything. She won't hurt me, I know."
"Well, then, bring a cup of tea, Nan: and after that, be off!" commanded Wallace.