“I'll write to him, if you like, and appoint a consultation.” He added, with vast but rather sudden alacrity, “It will be a great satisfaction to my own mind.”
“Then send to him, if you please, and let him be here to-morrow morning; if not, I shall take her to London for advice at once.”
On this understanding they parted, and Lusignan went at once to his daughter. “O my child!” said he, deeply distressed, “how could you hide this from me?”
“Hide what, papa?” said the girl, looking the picture of unconsciousness.
“That you have been spitting blood.”
“Who told you that?” said she, sharply.
“Wyman. He is attending you.”
Rosa colored with anger. “Chatterbox! He promised me faithfully not to.”
“But why, in Heaven's name? What! would you trust this terrible thing to a stranger, and hide it from your poor father?”
“Yes,” replied Rosa, quietly.