It was as if old girlish days had come back, for Mrs Hallam yielded with a sigh to the stronger will of the faithful old servant, letting her lift and lay her down, and closing her eyes with a weary sigh.
“Now I may go to Mr Bayle, mayn’t I?”
“No,” said Mrs Hallam sternly.
“Then to Sir Gordon, and ask him to help us?”
“No,” said Mrs Hallam again; “I must work alone in this—and I will.”
She closed her eyes, and in a few minutes seemed to have dropped off asleep, when Thisbe signed to Julia to accompany her out of the room.
“Don’t you fret and trouble yourself, my darling,” she whispered. “I’ll take care no one comes and troubles you. She’s worn out with suffering, and no doctor would do her good, or we’d soon have the best in the town. What she wants is rest and peace, and your dear loving hands to hold her. If anything will ease her that’s it.”
She kissed Julia, and the next moment the girl’s arms were clasped about her neck, and she sobbed upon her breast.
“It’s so terrible,” she cried. “I can’t bear it! I can’t bear it! I tried so hard to love him, but—but—”
“An angel with wings couldn’t have loved such a father as that, my dear.”