Knowing his sister and his fiancée were there, Roger came in. They told him what the doctor had said.
“Brace up, girls,” he said, cheeringly. “The game’s never out till it’s played out. I believe our spunky little Patty will outwit the old pneumonia and get the better of it. She always comes out top of the heap somehow. And her holding on so long is a good sign. Don’t you want to go home now, Mona? You look all tired out.”
“Yes, do go, Mona,” said Elise, kindly. “But it isn’t tiredness, Roger, it’s anxiety. Go on, you two, I’ll stay a while longer.”
The pair went, and Elise sat alone in the library.
Presently, through the stilled house, she heard Patty’s voice ring out, high and shrill.
“I don’t want it!” Patty cried; “I don’t want the fortune! And I don’t want to marry anybody! Why do they make me promise to marry everybody in the whole world?”
The voice was that of delirium. Though not really delirious, Patty’s mind was flighty, and the sentences that followed were disjointed and incoherent. But they all referred to a fortune or to a marriage.
“What can she mean?” sobbed Nan, who, with her husband, sat in an adjoining room.
“Never mind, dear, it’s her feverish, disordered imagination talking. If she were herself, she wouldn’t know what those words meant. Perhaps it is better that her mind wanders. Some say that’s a good sign. Keep up hope, Nan, darling, if only for my sake.”
“Yes, Fred. And we have cause for hope. Doctor is by no means discouraged, and if we can tide over another twenty-four hours——”