"He is exactly what you need," he said. "And he would be of more use to you than a dozen nurses. He won't stand any of your maternal weakness, and he will see that my orders are carried out. He'll domineer over you, and you'll be afraid of him. You had better let him stay. But you must settle it between you after I am gone."
Bertha went downstairs with him to receive a few final directions, and when she returned Tredennis had gently released himself from Janey, and had gone to the window, where he stood evidently awaiting her.
"Do you know," he said, with his disproportionately stern air, when she joined him,—"do you know why I came here?"
"You came," she answered, "because I alarmed you unnecessarily, and it seemed that some one must come, and you were kind enough to assume the responsibility."
"I came because there was no one else," he began.
She stopped him with a question she had not asked before, and he felt that she asked it inadvertently.
"Where was Laurence Arbuthnot?" she said.
"That is true," he replied, grimly. "Laurence Arbuthnot would have been better."
"No," she said, "he would not have been better."