“But I am sure he would not approve of your coming,” I said stoutly.
“I can’t help that,” she replied quietly. “He will think it his duty to find fault, and I think it mine to come and help to nurse this poor fellow who was hurt in serving me.”
“But your mother—Mrs Hallett?”
“I have arranged for some one to go in and wait upon her till I go back,” said Linny quietly. “Now, what had I better do?” I could think of nothing better than to suggest some beef-tea, and she snatched at the notion, running out to fetch the material; and soon after having it simmering by the fire, while she tidied the room in a way only possible to a woman; and as she busied herself in a quiet, quick fashion, I could not help noticing how pale and subdued she seemed. It was very evident that her nerves had had a severe shock on the previous night, and as I gazed at the pretty, soft little face and figure, bending themselves so earnestly to the task in hand, I could hardly believe it was the same giddy, coquettish girl who caused her brother so much concern.
The day wore slowly by, and in spite of my efforts and real anxiety, I could not keep awake, but caught myself dozing off sometimes to start up, feeling horribly guilty, and ready to excuse myself to Linny on the plea that I had had hardly any sleep for two nights.
“The more need for me to come, Antony,” she said quietly, and bidding me lie down for an hour or two, she took out her work and, seated herself by the sick man’s pillow.
She woke me up at last to have a sort of tea-dinner with her, after I had seen that Revitts remained perfectly insensible, and then the evening wore on, the surgeon came and nodded his satisfaction at finding a nurse there, said that the patient was going on all right, but must have time, and took his leave.
At half-past eight, just as I had anticipated, Hallett arrived, and started with surprise on seeing his sister.
“You here?” he said, with an angry look upon his brow.
“Yes, Stephen,” she said quietly; “I have come to help nurse him.”