“To everybody, madam. Sleep is of such vital importance to the—Mr Elthorne in his present state, and he has so much difficulty in obtaining rest, especially at night, that even an hour’s natural sleep is most desirable.”
“Well, of course, I understand all that,” said Aunt Anne, “and I shall take care that I do not make a sound.”
She stepped forward, but the nurse did not stir.
“Will you have the goodness to move,” said Aunt Anne, in the most frigid of tones.
“Pray forgive me, madam. I must carry out my orders.”
“I have told you, my good woman, that they do not apply to me. Will you be good enough to stand aside?”
A faint colour appeared in the nurse’s cheeks, but she did not move.
“Did you hear what I said?” cried Aunt Anne haughtily.
“Yes, madam, and again I ask your pardon,” said the nurse gently. “Excuse me, pray, but you are placing me in a very painful position.”
“Then stand aside,” said Aunt Anne, who was growing very red in the face, consequent on being opposed. “Do you hear me, woman?”