"I really must protest," Mr Ffolliot said stiffly, "against your gratuitous assumption that I care nothing for Margie's welfare."
"Not at all," Mrs Grantly said smoothly, "I only ask for a modest manifestation of your devotion, that's all."
"Shall I go to her now?" said Mr Ffolliot with the air of a lamb led to the slaughter.
"Certainly not—she'll probably be trying to get up lest you should want her for anything. I'll go and keep her in bed till luncheon. You may come and see her at eleven."
When Fusby came in for the breakfast tray, Mr Ffolliot was still standing on the hearth-rug immersed in thought.
CHAPTER XIX
MARY AND HER FATHER
In the lives of even the strongest and most competent among us, there will arise moments when decision of any kind has become impossible, and it is a real relief to have those about us who settle everything without asking whether we like it or not. Such times are almost always the result of physical debility, when the enfeebled body so reacts upon brain and spirit that no matter how vigorous the one or valorous the other, both seem atrophied.
It is at such times that we have cause to bless the doctor who is a strong man, and fears not to give orders or talk straight talk; and the relations who never so much as mention any plan till it has been decided, taking for granted we will approve the arrangements they have made.
We are generally acquiescent, for it is so blessed to drift passively in the wake of these determined ones, till such time as, with returning physical strength, the will asserts itself once more.