“It has been going on for months past,” continued Saxa.
“At the hospital in London, dear,” added Dana, “as well as here.”
Ralph Elthorne drew in his breath with a sharp, hissing sound, and lay back staring straight before him, but the sisters, in their returning anger, paid no heed to the change in his countenance, as a spasm passed over it, but left him calm and firm again.
“I wouldn’t have believed it,” cried Saxa, “but I must—I must. It is true.”
“What? Neil? My boy Neil?” said Elthorne hoarsely. “My quiet, obedient, straightforward son, whose word every man trusts? And Nurse Elisia? I will not believe it.”
“Very well, daddy,” said Saxa gravely. “You will see.”
“Bah! Nonsense, girl. Someone has been poisoning your ears against as true and good a woman as ever breathed.”
Saxa rose slowly from her knees, and stood gazing frowningly down in his eyes, as the old man went on in stern tones of reproof.
“Shame on you, Saxa! My boy Neil is too noble and high-minded to even dream of such a thing. He—the great surgeon who is growing famous! Why, it would be a crime against you, and an insult to his father. My darling, you should not let such a degrading notion harbour in your brain.”
The girl’s stern look intensified.