“Ahem! Yes, yes,—ah,—I'll remain as long as—ah,—I feel the least bit uneasy about her.”
“All right, Doctor,—if there is the remotest danger of—”
“Oh, I fancy there isn't any real danger of that, Mr. Carstairs. Compose yourself. We 'll have her sleeping like a baby in no time at all. Had you an inkling that Steele was that sort of a—”
“And will you please send Mrs. Carstairs out of the room at once?”
“Yes, yes,—immediately. Leave it to me, leave it to me,” and off he went, with a sprightliness that would have, surprised his dignity if he had had the slightest notion at that moment that he still possessed such a thing.
But Mrs. Carstairs refused to be sent out of the room. She remained steadfast at the girl's side, holding and stroking her hand.
“I cannot,—I will not leave her, Doctor Browne,” she said, compressing her lips.
The butler apologetically stuck his head into Mr. Carstairs' study a few minutes after the doctor's arrival.
“Sorry, sir, but there's two gentlemen asking to see you.”
“I told you I was not at home to any one, Hollowell. Is it necessary for me to repeat your instructions?”