"Are you willing that I should sing, Robert?"
"Yes, I should like you to do so."
"Then what could be better than Job's triumphant confession, 'I know that my Redeemer liveth'?"
"That is the very thing! You sung it once in Sheffield. I have never forgotten it."
"Has your mother been told about my singing, 'O that I had wings like a dove'?"
"No. I have never found a good opportunity to tell her. I knew she would feel it much. As soon as you have settled the matter with the doctor, I will tell her of both together."
The next morning Dr. Robertson called to see Theodora, and was delighted with her selection. He did not stay long, but Mrs. Campbell was deeply offended because she was neither personally visited by him, nor yet invited by Theodora to meet him in her parlor. The lunch table was made a fiery furnace for her, and she had not the physical power to resist the evil. Assailed by a sudden faintness, she was obliged to leave the room.
"Dora looks ill," said Christina.
"She is always complaining lately. She had Dr. Fleming in the house twice last week, had she not, Isabel?" Isabel sighed deeply, and Christina absently nodded assent. She was counting the custard cups and considering the best way to appropriate the one intended for Theodora.
Jepson, however, had noticed the white face and unsteady steps of the sick woman and assisted her to her own apartments. On his return he was confronted by the angry face of his mistress. She laid down her knife and fork with a clash and asked: