It was the conclusion that events had forced upon Eustace himself during the night, but he chafed against acknowledging it. "There's no sense in drifting on in the same old hopeless way for ever," he said. "We have got to make a stand; and it's now or never."
"I know. But we must have patience a bit longer. There is a change coming. I am certain of it. But—last night has thrown her back." Scott spoke with melancholy conviction.
"You gave her the draught?" Eustace asked sharply.
"I gave her a sedative only; but it took no effect. In the middle of the morning she was still in the same unsatisfactory state, and I gave her a second sedative. After that she fell asleep, but it was not a very easy sleep for a long time. This afternoon I saw Biddy for a moment, and she told me she seemed much more comfortable. The poor old thing looked tired out, and I told her to get a rest herself. She said she would lie down in the room. If it hadn't been for this concert business, I would have relieved her. But they couldn't muster anyone to take my place. I am just going up now to see how she is getting on."
Scott straightened himself slowly, with a movement that was unconsciously very weary. Eustace gave him a keen glance.
"You're wearing yourself out over her, Stumpy," he said.
"Oh, rot!" Scott smiled upon him, a light that was boyishly affectionate in his eyes. "I'm much tougher than I look. Thanks for being decent to me, old chap! I don't deserve it. If there are any more letters to be written, bring them along, and I'll attend to them to-night after the concert."
"No. Not this lot. I shall attend to them myself." Eustace got up, and passed a hand through his arm. "You are working too hard and sleeping too little. I'm going to take you in hand and put a stop to it."
Scott laughed. "No, no! Thanks all the same, I'm better left alone. Are you coming to the show to-night? The beautiful Miss de Vigne is going to sing."
Eustace looked supercilious. "Is there anything that young lady can't do, I wonder? Her accomplishments are legion. She told me yesterday that she could play the guitar. She can also recite, play bridge, and take cricket scores. She is a scratch golf-player, plays a good game of tennis, rides to hounds, and visits the poor. And that is by no means a complete list. I don't wonder that she gives the little brown girl indigestion. Her perfection is almost nauseating at times."