As he spoke he watched the girl’s face, the changing expression of it, which marked her growing mental perturbation.
“You really believe it is as bad as that, Harold?” she asked.
“It may be worse than I think,” he said. “It is surely fully as bad.”
The girl rose slowly from the chair. “I will try and persuade him to see Dr. Earle.”
The man took a step toward her. “I don’t believe a doctor is what he needs,” he said quickly. “His condition is one that even a nerve specialist might not diagnose correctly. It is only some one in a position like mine, who has an opportunity to observe him almost hourly, day by day, who would realize his condition. I doubt if he has any organic trouble whatever. What he needs is a long rest, entirely free from any thought whatever of business. At least, Elizabeth, it will do him no harm, and it may prolong his life for years. I wouldn’t go messing around with any of these medical chaps.”
“Well,” she said at last, with a sigh, “I will talk to him and see if I can’t persuade him to take a trip. He has always wanted to visit Japan and China.”
“Just the thing!” exclaimed Bince; “just the thing for him. The long sea voyage will do him a world of good. And now,” he said, stepping to her side and putting an arm around her.
She pushed him gently away.
“No,” she said; “I do not feel like kissing now,” and turning she entered her father’s office, followed by Bince.