“I know; she feels that, too. Now, you cannot see your brother to-day, but to-morrow, if he goes on well, I think you might. We shall see. I shall be back early to-morrow to look at him.”
For a man who had passed through so dangerous an attack, weakened, too, as he was, by months of the opium habit, Thurso showed extraordinary recuperative power, and next day he asked of his own accord whether Maud might come and see him. This Sir James at once allowed.
“I will let her know when I go,” he said. “It will do you good.”
He waited for a moment, but Thurso said nothing about wishing to see Catherine, and shortly after the doctor left him, and told Maud she might pay him a short visit. The nurse was with him when Maud entered, but went to her room next door, leaving brother and sister alone. He was still lying flat, without pillows, but he smiled a welcome at Maud when she came in.
“Come close, Maud,” he said in a minute. “I want to talk to you.”
His voice was still no more than a whisper from weakness, but his words were quite audible.
“I don’t want to see Catherine,” he said, “and you must keep her away from me. I think the sight of her would send me off my head. It’s she who has brought me to this. It was she who ruined my nerves by always rushing and flying about in every direction——”
Maud interrupted him gently.
“Ah! never mind that,” she said. “At present all you have to do is to lie quiet, and not worry about anything, and get well.”
But Thurso broke in again.