"Now be quiet and good, both of you. No fuss or agitation," commanded the doctor.
He placed Lettice on the bed, close beside Cecilia, and the two were locked in a fast embrace, each struggling not to give way.
"And you have been ill too! Was that it? My poor little Lettice. And they never told me."
"Not ill, only out of sorts," interposed Bertha cheerfully; but Cecilia went on, unheeding—
"I thought you had gone quite away, not caring for the old sister any longer."
"O Sissie! How could you?"
"Never mind, it is all right now. If Felix too—but that cannot be. Come closer. I have something to say."
Mr. Jasper drew a pace off. "Five minutes only," he said to Bertha. "Bad for them both; but the other was getting to be worse."
"I don't like her look this evening," murmured Bertha.
"I did not this morning." The doctor then spoke in his ordinary voice. "Now, no crying, please. Don't let me have to regret the indulgence."