“But the invention, Antony,” she exclaimed excitedly; “tell me how it is going on.”
“We are working at it as fast as possible,” I replied; “it takes a long time, but that is unavoidable.”
“If you love Stephen Hallett,” she said suddenly, and she looked full in my face, “get his invention finished and perfect. Let it succeed, and you will have done more for him than any doctor. Work, Antony, work. I ask you for—for—Pray, pray strive on.”
“I will—I am striving,” I said, “with all my might. It was a cruel blow for him though, just as success was in his grasp.”
“Mr Lister is here, ma’am,” said the servant, entering the room.
“I have forbidden Mr Lister my house,” said Miss Carr sternly.
“Yes, ma’am, but he forced his way in, and—”
Before the man could finish his sentence, John Lister was in the room, looking flushed and excited, and he almost thrust the servant out and closed the door.
As he caught sight of me his face turned white with rage, but he controlled himself, and turned to where Miss Carr was standing, looking very beautiful in her anger.
I had started up, and stepped between them, but she motioned me back to my seat, while he joined his hands in a piteous way, and said in a low voice: