“Don’t take it like that, my dear father,” said Neil, smiling. “It is not the first time we have had him to see you.”
“No, no! I know all that; but why, why is he coming?”
“I asked him to come down, sir, that is all.”
“Ah! you asked him to come down. Why, why was I not told?”
“For the reason you are showing,” replied Neil quietly. “I was afraid that if you knew you might agitate yourself, and fill your brain with fancies about your state.”
“So would any sick man,” cried Elthorne sharply. “And that is not all. You are keeping a great deal from me in your false wisdom. But you cannot hide it from one who knows intuitively what changes take place in him. I can see and feel it all. I am worse.”
“My dear sir, no,” said Neil, smiling.
“Don’t contradict me, boy,” cried his father fiercely. “Surely I ought to know from my own sensations. I am far worse, and you have sent for Sir Denton because you have reached the end of your teachings, and feel helpless to do any more.”
“You do not give me much credit, father,” said Neil, smiling.
“Yes, yes, I do, boy, a great deal,” said the old man excitedly. “Then it has come to this at last.”