“Then, dear, I wish you to visit Drake Park and Hohen before we start for the manor. It is our duty, indeed, Nugent. Think. You have not been near your property for so long that the tenants do not even know you. Will you do so?”
“But I thought you would like to go straight to the manor,” the earl said, slowly.
“I would rather wait and go with you, dear, and then we can commence the portraits without further delay. I shall be so glad to have a picture of my sweet Margery. Ah, here she is! What plots have you two conspirators been hatching? Come, confess!”
“Do they not please you?” inquired Margery, kneeling for an instant beside her.
“Please me? Nothing on earth could give me greater pleasure; but I want Nugent to postpone the journey till his return from the country.”
The earl moved to the window, and was standing with folded arms. His face wore a puzzled, almost distressed expression.
“My sister, Miss Daw,” he said, quietly, “is desirous I should visit my other tenants before starting for Court Manor, and I am satisfied she is right. I have not been down for years, but it will not take me long, and then——”
“And then,” finished Lady Enid, with a feeble smile—“then good-by to dreary, gloomy, dusty London, if—if Dr. Fothergill consents.”
“Enid,” Lord Court said, going to his sister’s side, “what do you mean? Has Fothergill been frightening you? Ah, I knew there was something that made you hesitate! Speak! tell me at once!”
“Nugent, my darling”—and Lady Enid imprisoned his strong hand in her two frail ones—“forgive me! I have been tempted to tell you, and then the thought of buoying you up only for bitter disappointment has stopped me. This is it, my darling.” There was a little catch in her breath which he did not notice in his anxiety, but which did not escape Margery, who had risen, and was standing at a little distance, with hands clasped tightly together. “For some time past Dr. Fothergill has been hopeful that, by undergoing certain treatment, I shall be cured—that is, partially cured—walk by myself, be no longer the great baby I am now; and—and I have agreed to try it, for I do long for health, to be as others are. Now, Nugent, you know my secret—you have wormed it out of me. I did not mean to tell you, but I have been compelled. So you see, darling, I cannot leave London while I am under his care. In a little while I shall know whether the treatment is successful or not. I have kept this even from Margery.”