"Juliette seems to have found her vocation," observed Saltash with a lazy chuckle. "But no, I should not say that she was specially trained for this sort of thing, though certainly it seems to suit her passing well. All the same, you won't let her carry it too far, will you? Now that Mrs. Fielding is beginning to rally a little it might be a good opportunity to make her take a rest."
"Yes, you're right. She must rest," Fielding agreed. "She is so marvellous that one is apt to forget she must be nearly worn out."
It was the fifth day and Vera had certainly rallied. She lay in the sombre old library, that had been turned into the most luxurious bedroom that Saltash's and Juliet's ingenuity could devise, listening to the tinkle of the water in the conservatory and watching Juliet who sat in a low chair by her side with a book in her lap ready to read her to sleep.
There was a couch in the conservatory itself on which sometimes on rare occasions Juliet would snatch a brief rest, leaving the nurse to watch. Columbus regarded this couch as his own particular property, but he always gave his beloved mistress an ardent welcome and squeezed himself into as small a compass as possible at the foot for her benefit. Otherwise, he occupied the middle with an arrogance of possession which none disputed. The door into the garden was always open, and Columbus was extremely happy, being of supremely independent habits and quite capable of trotting round to the kitchen premises of the castle for his daily portion without disturbing anyone en route. How he discovered the kitchen Juliet never knew. Doubtless his exploring faculty stood him in good stead. But his appearance there was absolutely regular and orderly, and he always returned to the conservatory when he had been fed with the bustling self-importance of one whose time was of value. He never entered the sick-room except on invitation, and he never raised his voice above a whisper when in the conservatory. It was quite evident that he fully grasped the situation and accommodated himself thereto. All he asked of life was to be near his beloved one, and the snuffle of his greeting whenever she joined him was ample testimony to the joy of his simple soul. Just to see her, just to hear her voice, just sometimes to kiss and be kissed, what more could any dog desire?
Certainly an occasional scamper after rabbits in the park made a salutary change, but Columbus was prudent and he never suffered himself to be drawn very far in pursuit. A sense of duty or expediency always brought him back before long to the couch in the conservatory to lie and watch, brighteyed, for the only person who counted in his world.
He was watching for her now, but without much hope of her coming. She seldom left Vera's bedside in the afternoon for it was then, in the heat of the day, that she usually suffered most. But to-day she had been better. Today for the first time she was able to turn her head and smile and even to murmur a few sentences without distress. Her eyes dwelt upon Juliet's quiet face with a wistful affection. She had come to lean upon her strength with a child's dependence.
"Quite comfortable?" Juliet asked her gently.
"Quite," Vera made whispered reply. "But you—you look so tired."
Juliet smiled at her. "I dare say I shall fall asleep if you do," she said.
"You ought to have a long rest," said Vera, and then her heavy eyes brightened and went beyond her as her husband's tall figure came softly in from the conservatory.