“It is hardly a case for medicine, sir. Your niece’s trouble is almost entirely mental. Given rest and happy surroundings, cheerful female society of her own age, fresh air, moderate exercise, and the calmness and peace of a home like this, I have no doubt that her nerves will soon recover their tone.”
“Then they had better do it,” said Wilton, gruffly. “She has everything a girl can wish for. My son and I have done all we can to amuse her.”
“And I’m sure I have been as loving as a mother to her,” said Mrs Wilton.
“Yes, but you are mistaken, sir. There must be something more. I’d better take her up to town for advice.”
“By all means, sir,” said Leigh, coldly. “It might be wise, but I should say that she would be better here, with time to work its own cure.”
“Of course, I mean no disrespect to you, Mr Leigh, but you are a young man, and naturally inexperienced.”
“Now I don’t want to hurt your feelings, James,” broke in Mrs Wilton, “but it is you who are inexperienced in what young girls are. Mr Leigh has spoken very nicely, and quite understands poor Kate’s case. If you had only seen the way in which he brought her round!”
“I really do wish, Maria, that you would not interfere in what you don’t understand,” cried Wilton, irascibly.
“But I’m obliged to when I find you going wrong. It’s just what I’ve said to you over and over again. You men are so hard and unfeeling, and don’t believe there are such things as nerves. Now, I’m quite sure that Mr Leigh could do her a great deal of good, if you’d only attend to your out-door affairs and leave her to me—You grasped it all at once, Mr Leigh. Poor child, she has done nothing but fret ever since she has been here, and no wonder. Within a year she has lost both father and mother.”
“Now, Maria, Mr Leigh does not want to hear all our family history.”