“My dear father, that is what I feared, or I should have spoken to you sooner. I assure you that you have no cause for alarm.”
“Words, words, words,” cried Mr Elthorne piteously. “The case is absolutely hopeless. You know it, and so you have sent for Sir Denton again.”
“My dear father,” began Neil, taking his hand. “Be silent sir,” cried the old man fiercely, “and let me speak.”
“Then, my dear patient,” said Neil, “I must insist upon your listening to me calmly and patiently;” but Mr Elthorne paid no heed and went on.
“I’m not going to blame you, boy, I suppose you have done your best, everything that you have been taught.”
Elisia glanced at Neil in spite of herself, and it was a commiserating look, but a feeling of elation ran through her as she saw his calm, patient, pitying look as she quitted the room.
“Indeed I have done everything possible, father,” he said quietly.
“Yes, yes; all you knew, boy; all you knew.”
“And I have been able to do more perhaps than a surgeon who visited you would have achieved, through always being on the spot.”
“But your knowledge is limited, of course, boy.”