“My dear! What a question! I declare, Neil, you revel in sick rooms, and in having nurses near you. This is not a hospital. Of course I want to see the nurse gone, and your father about again.”
Neil frowned, and his aunt saw it. She added hastily:
“Not that I have a word to say against Nurse Elisia. I’m sure her attention to your poor father deserves all praise.”
“God bless her! yes,” said Neil, in a low, grave tone. “She has saved his life.”
“Oh, no, my dear; I am not going so far as that,” said Aunt Anne in alarm, so earnest was her nephew’s utterance. “Nurses are not doctors.”
“But they often do far more for the patients, Aunt.”
“Do they, my dear? Oh, well, I dare say you are right.”
“Yes, I am right,” he said dreamily, and he turned and left the room, unaware of the fact that Aunt Anne was watching him intently.
“Oh, dear me! Oh, dear me!” she said to herself, “what a tone of voice! He is thinking about her. There is no doubt about it, but he is sorry and repentant. I can read him like a book. Yes; he is sorry. My words brought him back to a sense of duty, and he will be as nice as can be to Saxa in future. I’m sure I could not have spoken better. It is a great advantage—experience, and a good knowledge of human nature. Now that boy—well, he always was the dearest and best of boys, and if he had been my own I couldn’t have thought more of him—that boy knows he has been doing wrong in letting himself be attracted by a pretty face, and my words have thoroughly brought him round. Maria was quite right, and I must talk to Alison too, and—yes, I will; I’ll manage to have a chat with Sir Denton and beg him as a great favour to let me finish nursing my brother. I will not say a word about the nurse. Dear me! what am I thinking about? I quite forgot to tell them we would lunch at half-past two.”
Aunt Anne got up and rang the bell.