The patient started up.
"Aunt, what do you mean? If that old wife comes into this room, I will make him glad to go out of it!"
You see she was feverish, poor child, else I am sure she could not have been so rude to her aunt. But before Mrs. Cathcart could reply, in came Dr. Wade. He walked right up to the bed, after a stately obeisance to the lady attendant.
"I am sorry to find you so ill, Miss Cathcart."
"I am perfectly well, Dr. Wade. I am sorry you have had the trouble of walking up stairs."
As she said this, she rang the bell at the head of her bed. Her maid, who had been listening at the door, entered at once.—I had all this from Adela herself afterwards.
"Emma, bring me my desk. Dr. Wade, there must be some mistake. It was my aunt, Mrs. Cathcart, who sent for you. Had she given me the opportunity, I would have begged that the interview might take place in her room instead of mine."
Dr. Wade retreated towards the fireplace, where Mrs. Cathcart stood, quite aware that she had got herself into a mess of no ordinary complication. Yet she persisted in her cunning. She lifted her finger to her forehead.
"Ah?" said Dr. Wade.
"Yes," said Mrs. Cathcart.