Mrs. Russelthorpe sat by the window of her brother's room. It was a pretty room; for the guest-room of the parsonage was emphatically "the best bedroom" of the house.
She had come down at once on hearing of his illness, but now the patient was surprisingly better. That most sadly hopeful of diseases had loosened its hold, and Mr. Deane was as cheerful as possible; indeed, his sister found him almost irritatingly contented. She was anxious to get him away from this dangerous neighbourhood. She knew that the Thorpes lived somewhere in the county; but he, alas! had not the faintest desire to move.
She sat and embroidered, her long fingers moving the faster when she thought; her lips compressed closely. When she glanced at Charles her face softened. She loathed a sick room; but she was fond of him, even when he was ill.
His features, refined by illness, were more painfully like Meg's than ever; and that made her impatient.
Certainly she had enough to bother her! Mrs. Russelthorpe could not bear accepting favours from any one, and here she was compelled to stay under the stranger's roof indefinitely!
Charles took it very lightly. He was grateful to his old friend; but the obligation did not harass him. He was generous and very hospitable himself, and would have done as much for his host if the circumstances had been reversed. Besides, he was one of the people who are born favourites; and even strangers always gave him willing service. As the old housekeeper remarked, "Mr. Deane was such a gentleman as it was an honour and pleasure to do for".
There had been some coldness between him and his sister of late, for he had strongly disapproved her threatened action concerning her husband's will.
"It is not like any of us to take to airing family grievances in public," he had said proudly; and his reproof had impressed her.
Charles seldom played the part of mentor; but on the rare occasions when he did, his words always stung, though they seldom made her alter her course.
Presently he woke up and called her. "Sis, I wish you would put down that work and come nearer; that is"—with the quick thoughtfulness for other people which never deserted him—"if you won't go out and get some fresh air; you hate a sick room, I know. Really, it was very good of you to come."