“In his condition anything like opposition might bring on a serious attack, dear. Even trifles make him so angry that your brother fears he may sometime have a fit. He is in a very precarious state, Isabel, and a serious matter like this might—I hardly dare tell you what might happen. Come; you said you would trust me. I will help you.”
“But Sir Cheltnam? My aunt thinks she is doing right, and encourages him to come and torture me. What shall I do?”
“Wait and trust to me?”
“But it so hard.”
“Hush! There is someone in the next room.” Elisia rose, and entered the bedchamber.
“Oh, you are there,” said Aunt Anne shortly. “I am quite sure that my poor brother ought not to be left alone so long.”
“I was in the next room, madam, and if he had spoken a word I should have heard him directly,” said the nurse softly.
“It does not seem like it, for I have been here some time.”
“Excuse me, Mrs Barnett, Mr Elthorne must not be awakened suddenly.”
“What do you mean?”