“Bless the fit!” he said to himself. “Brought me a bit nearer to her haughty ladyship. Bah! it’s only a question of time.”
It was in Claude’s heart to relate her interview with her father that morning, but she shrank from speaking; and her attention was taken up by the entrance of the doctor.
“Better,” he said; “decidedly better.”
“Can I go to him?”
“If you wish it. But your entrance might disturb him now, as he has just sunk into a peaceful sleep. Mrs Woodham is watching him, and will call you if there is any need. But, believe me, there will be none. He’ll sleep for some hours, and then wake quite himself; but, of course, very irritable and strange. You will then see that he has the medicine I have left for him, and after an hour that which I shall send on.”
“Yes, doctor.”
“Either administer it yourself, or let that woman give it to him. Don’t trust Mr Gartram.”
“Not trust him?”
“No; he will neglect it, and then take a double dose to make up for it, and that will not do. Regularity, and keeping himself under the influence of the drug, is what we want.”
“I will attend to it myself,” said Claude.