“The doctor? What’s up, Thomas? Is anything wrong?”
“Wrong? Wrong, Sir Nigel! Merciful God!” He wrung his hands helplessly. “It’s best you should hear it from me, Sir Nigel. Our dear lady is dying. We thought she was gone when we found her. But the doctor brought remedies in his bag. He revived her. She is conscious again, and knows us. But he says she can’t last through the day.”
He leapt from the bed.
“Quick! My clothes.”
“For God’s sake, sir, be calm! For her ladyship’s sake; for all our sakes. It will seem like madness. Don’t do aught that might disturb her peace. The country side will ring with it. They have talked for years. They will say she died insane.”
“My clothes, Thomas.”
“Those you came in are soaked with sea water, Sir Nigel. But we have plenty here. Her ladyship had them all kept ready, and always brushed and aired.”
He went to a chest of drawers and fumbled blindly.
“Your flannels, Sir Nigel? She would like best to see you in what you wore that day. The coat you flung to her as you ran down the beach, she keeps in her own room. But here are others all complete.”
With trembling hands, he laid them on a chair. “All you need is here, Sir Nigel.”