Strange that one being on earth, and that one my sister, should love me better than Evelyn, in the eyes of her partial affection; and yet Evelyn treated her with positive disrespect every day of her life, as I never did; and often with severity as well. It was incomprehensible!
"Give me the panada," I said, grimly; "I am half starved, and must grow strong again to do my work. I am not nearly so weak as I usually am, though, after one of my seizures."
"You see you are outgrowing them, as Dr. Pemberton predicted you would. I declare, you are hungry, poor child; you have not left a drop—pint-bowl too—with a gill of wine in it. Not going to get up, Miss Miriam? Oh, no; you must not venture to do that yet."
And she tried gently to restrain me.
"Yes, I must get about again; I have much to do, and Evelyn must aid me, if able. Is she ill or only nervous?"
"Very ill, I think; she wrote a note to Dr. Craig and sent it last night, after you went to sleep; but he did not come."
"Quite naturally, since he had been absent some weeks. I could have told her," I said, sententiously; "indeed, I thought she knew it. Who carried her note?"
"Morton."
"Poor old man! The idea of sending him on such a wild-goose chase, after night. Papa would turn in his grave could he know he had been forced out in the rain at such an hour, for a woman's whim. I would have suffered tortures till morning first. Where was Franklin?"
"Franklin had gone home earlier than usual, and did not return to-day. He is sick with a chill, we hear, and his wife is again ill."