"My aunt, Mrs. Asshlin!" she whispered.
Milbanke bowed, and Mrs. Asshlin extended her hand.
"We meet on a sad occasion, Mr. Milbanke," she murmured in a low, querulous voice. "My poor brother-in-law was always such a rash man. But with some people, you know, there is no such thing as remonstrating. Even this morning when Mr. Curry, our rector from Carrigmore, came to have a little talk with him, he was barely polite; and it was only yesterday that we dared to tell him that Doctor Gallagher insisted on having a nurse. Now, what can you do with a patient like that?"
Milbanke murmured something vaguely unintelligible; and Clodagh stirred impatiently.
"Did you give him the medicine, Aunt Fan?" she asked.
"I did; but with great difficulty. My brother-in-law has always been averse to medical aid," she explained to Milbanke.
"He's never had any need of it," Clodagh whispered sharply. "Will you come, Mr. Milbanke? He's quite alone. The nurse is resting."
With great dignity Mrs. Asshlin moved away.
"I shall ask Hannah to get me a cup of tea, Clodagh," she murmured. "I get such a headache from a sick-room."
Without replying, Clodagh turned again to Milbanke.