"Oh, no," said Paulina, opening her eyes widely. "He isn't dying, you know. I am going to London."
"On his account—to get him medicine perhaps?" suggested my aunt anxiously.
Paulina glanced across the table with amusement in her eyes.
"I am going to London to have a new gown fitted," she said, "and to do some shopping."
"But, my dear Miss Dicks, what will your father do without you? Is it well that you should leave him alone all day when he is suffering so?"
My aunt looked amazed as she put these queries.
"Oh, he says now that he will see a doctor," Paulina replied. "I can call and tell him to come if he lives near the station. I should do Poppa no good by staying at home. He has had these attacks before, and they will take their course. I knew he would be ill when I saw him eating that salmon."
"But would you not like to see the doctor yourself?" aunt said. "Cannot you put off going to London for a day or two?"
"That would inconvenience Madame Hortense," Paulina said gravely. "No, I had better keep my appointment. I know you will look after Poppa, Mrs. Lucas, and you will help her, will you not, Miss Cottrell?"
"Indeed, I shall be happy to do anything I can for him," said that spinster with indubitable sincerity. "I have had to do with sick people before now."