"I don't know," sighed the weary invalid, for the third time. "But you had better not, either of you, attempt to deceive me while I am lying here on my back."
"Not for the world, my dear father! Pray do not be doubtful or anxious. We are your dutiful sons, sir, and our first—"
"Rubbish!" exclaimed the broken Iron King. "That will do! Go send Rose to me. Why the deuce did she leave? I—I—I—" His voice dropped into an inarticulate murmur.
Mr. Fabian bent over him, and saw that he had dozed off to sleep.
"Dat's de way he's been a-goin' on ebber since de doctor lef'. It's de truck wot de doctor give him," said old Martha.
Fabian stole on tiptoe out of the room. Dinner was waiting for him down stairs. He would not deliver his father's selfish message to Rose, because he wished the poor creature to dine in peace. He told Clarence to give her his arm to the dining room.
While they were all at dinner Violet explained to her husband why Mr. Rockharrt had directed her to return home. Poor Violet was very loth to stir up any ill feeling between the father and son; but she need not have feared. Mr. Fabian understood the autocrat too well to take offense at the dismissal of his wife.
The next morning when the family physician arrived, and visited the injured man, he found him suffering from restlessness and a rising fever.
He reported this condition to Mr. Clarence Rockharrt, left very particular directions for the treatment of the patient, and then took leave, with the promise to return in the evening and remain all night.
Later in the afternoon the doctor, having finished all other professional calls for the day, arrived at Rockhold. He found his patient delirious. He took up his post by the sick bed for the night, and then peremptorily sent off the worn-out watcher, Rose, to the rest she so much needed.