‘Why, I didn’t expect to see you in your old enemy’s quarters,’ he said to Mr. Tryan. ‘However, it will be a good while before poor Dempster shows any fight again.’
‘I came on Mrs. Dempster’s account,’ said Mr. Tryan. ‘She is staying at Mrs. Pettifer’s; she has had a great shock from some severe domestic trouble lately, and I think it will be wiser to defer telling her of this dreadful event for a short time.’
‘Why, what has been up, eh?’ said Mr. Pilgrim, whose curiosity was at once awakened. ‘She used to be no friend of yours. Has there been some split between them? It’s a new thing for her to turn round on him.’
‘O, merely an exaggeration of scenes that must often have happened before. But the question now is, whether you think there is any immediate danger of her husband’s death; for in that case, I think, from what I have observed of her feelings, she would be pained afterwards to have been kept in ignorance.’
‘Well, there’s no telling in these cases, you know. I don’t apprehend speedy death, and it is not absolutely impossible that we may bring him round again. At present he’s in a state of apoplectic stupor; but if that subsides, delirium is almost sure to supervene, and we shall have some painful scenes. It’s one of those complicated cases in which the delirium is likely to be of the worst kind—meningitis and delirium tremens together—and we may have a good deal of trouble with him. If Mrs. Dempster were told, I should say it would be desirable to persuade her to remain out of the house at present. She could do no good, you know. I’ve got nurses.’
‘Thank you,’ said Mr. Tryan. ‘That is what I wanted to know. Good-bye.’
When Mrs. Pettifer opened the door for Mr. Tryan, he told her in a few words what had happened, and begged her to take an opportunity of letting Mrs. Raynor know, that they might, if possible, concur in preventing a premature or sudden disclosure of the event to Janet.
‘Poor thing!’ said Mrs. Pettifer. ‘She’s not fit to hear any bad news; she’s very low this evening—worn out with feeling; and she’s not had anything to keep her up, as she’s been used to. She seems frightened at the thought of being tempted to take it.’
‘Thank God for it; that fear is her greatest security.’
When Mr. Tryan entered the parlour this time, Janet was again awaiting him eagerly, and her pale sad face was lighted up with a smile as she rose to meet him. But the next moment she said, with a look of anxiety,—‘How very ill and tired you look! You have been working so hard all day, and yet you are come to talk to me. O, you are wearing yourself out. I must go and ask Mrs. Pettifer to come and make you have some supper. But this is my mother; you have not seen her before, I think.’