“I must be a patient.”
“You, sir? Why, you look the picture of health.”
“But I have been very patient, Mrs Milt,” said Salis, laughing.
“Ah, sir, and so have I,” said the housekeeper dolefully: “and a deal I’ve suffered, what with master’s illness, and my conscience.”
The old lady put her apron to her eyes, and gave vent to a low sob.
“Your conscience, Mrs Milt,” said Salis, smiling. “Why, I should have thought that was clear enough.”
“Clear, sir? Oh, no! It’s many a bitter night I’ve spent thinking of my temper, and the way I’ve worried poor master when he’s had all his work on his shoulders. I’ve helped to make him what he is. Oh, there’s that man, sir!”
She drew the curate within and closed the door, for steps were heard, and Cousin Thompson passed round from the back-garden to go down to the gate.
“He’s gone out, sir; and I’ll try now if master will see you. It worries him dreadfully his cousin being here, and it always did.”
Closing and fastening the door the housekeeper led the way to the first-floor landing, and, signing to Salis to be silent, she tapped gently at the doctor’s door.