“Yes; I do not think there is any doubt about it.”
Isabel uttered a sigh full of relief, and, leaving her brother, went softly to the bedside to bend down and kiss the sufferer’s brow. Then returning, she nestled close up to her brother again.
He kissed her affectionately, and led her toward the door.
“There, good-night, now,” he whispered, but she clung to him tightly, and he took her head between his hands and gazed down into her shrinking eyes.
“What is it, little one?” he said; and she feebly struggled with him, so as to avert her face from his searching eyes, but she made no reply.
“Why, Isabel, darling, what is it? You have something you wish to say to me?”
“Yes, Neil,” she whispered, “but I hardly like to tell it.”
“I thought you were always ready to tell me everything.”
“Yes, dear,” she said quickly now, and she looked up full in his face. “Neil, do you know what dear papa wishes?”
“I have a suspicion.”