“I think she’s tired out,” said Miss de Lisle. “She has been under great strain ever since the news of Mr. Jim came. And she is only a child. She can’t go through all that and finish up by nursing a fever patient—and then avoid paying for it.”
“She cannot, indeed,” said Katty. “Why wouldn’t the Masther take her away for a change? Indeed, it’s himself looks bad enough these times, as well. We’ll have the two of them ill on us if they don’t take care.”
“They might go,” said Miss de Lisle thoughtfully. “I’ll suggest it to Mr. Linton.”
David Linton, indeed, would have done anything to bring back the colour to Norah’s cheeks and the light into her eyes. But when he suggested going away she shrank from it pitifully.
“Ah, no, Daddy. I’m quite well, truly.”
“Indeed you’re not,” he said. “Look at the way you never eat anything!”
“Oh, I’ll eat ever so much,” said Norah eagerly. “Only don’t go away: we have work here, and we wouldn’t know what to do with ourselves anywhere else. Perhaps some time, when Wally comes home, if he cares to go we might think about it. But not now, Daddy.” She hesitated. “Unless, of course, you want to very much.”
“Not unless you do,” he said. “Only get well, my girl.”
“I’m quite all right,” protested Norah. “It was only Geoff’s illness that made me a bit slack. And we’ve had a busy summer, haven’t we? I think our little war-job hasn’t turned out too badly, Dad.”
“Not too badly at all—if it hasn’t been too much for my housekeeper,” he said, looking at her keenly. “Remember, I won’t have her knocked up.”