Without another word, Dr. Hicks turned away.
At noon, the nurse and specialist, arrived together, and presently there ensued grave consultations, whisperings, and ominous shaking of heads.
On account of its superior size, and in spite of Nancy's frenzied entreaties, the patient was moved into the drawing-room,—the most spacious apartment in the bungalow, with a northern aspect.
Mayne did not venture to speak to Nancy, who looked as if she scarcely recognized him, when she flitted about like a wraith between the sick-room, and verandah. Kindly, vulgar Mrs. Hicks, at whom he used to laugh, was now his support and comfort. She brought him bulletins, insisted on his taking food, and appeared to keep the whole establishment together; interviewing callers, writing chits, dispatching messengers, concocting dainties, and altogether reversing Mayne's opinion of "silly Mrs. Hicks." For her part, she was sincerely sorry for this worn, haggard-looking young man, who seemed to dread the impending tragedy, almost as much as Travers' own daughter.
Once or twice Mayne had been permitted to stand in the door of the drawing-room, and there exchange a few words with the patient. Quite late that evening, when he was disconsolately pacing the avenue, Mrs. Hicks came out, and joined him.
"How has he been since sundown?" he inquired.
"Neither better nor worse. We have sent for Mr. Brownlow, the padre; he will be here early to-morrow evening. Anyway, he'd have had to come up for the funeral."
"The funeral! Oh, good Lord!" exclaimed Mayne in a choked voice, "surely you are not thinking of that?"
"Now don't you go and break down, my dear boy," said Mrs. Hicks, thumping him on the back; "we must all keep up; while there's life there's hope, and we have to put on a bold face before Nancy. I have contrived to get her to bed. He sent her. May God forgive me for all the lies I've told that poor child. If this ends badly, it'll break her heart. Poor dear! I can't think whatever is to become of her? She won't have a penny of her own in the wide world,—and there's no relations to speak of."
"What—no relations?" repeated Mayne incredulously.