“I am Doctor Knatchbull’s deputy,” she said; “and my orders are not to let John excite himself.”
“All nonsense, my dear,” said Van Heldre.
“She is quite right, John,” said George Vine, rising.
“Quite right,” said Uncle Luke, following his brother’s example. “Keep him quiet. Make haste and get well. Good-night. Come, George.”
He was at the door by the time he had finished his speech, and without pausing to shake hands began to descend.
Madelaine came out of the drawing-room as the old man reached the hail.
“What do you think of him?” she said eagerly.
“Going backwards—dying fast,” he said shortly. “Oh!”
“Don’t be a little goose,” he cried, catching her in his arms as she reeled. “We all are; especially people over fifty. Bonny little nurse. You’ve done wonders. Good-night, my dear; God bless you!”
She returned his loving fatherly kiss, given hastily, as if he were ashamed of his weakness, and then he strode out into the dark night.