CHAPTER XXVII
THE FORGIVENESS OF THE FATES
Lady Dashwood submitted gracefully to being put to bed and propped up by pillows.
The doctor had come, pronounced his patient very greatly over-fatigued though not seriously ill, but he had forbidden her to leave her bed till he gave permission.
"Keep a strict watch over her," he had said to May, outside in the corridor. "She has got to the point when rest will put her right, or fatigue will put her all wrong."
When he had gone May came back into her aunt's room.
"Now you know what it is to be under orders," she said with a smile.
"And what about you, dear?" murmured Lady Dashwood, sweetly. "You can't stay on, of course, darling?"
May frowned to herself and then smiled. "I shall stay till the doctor comes again, because I can't trust you, dear aunt, to keep in bed, if I go."
"You can't trust me," sighed Lady Dashwood, blissfully. "I am beginning to realise that I am not the only reasonable person in the world. I suppose it is good for me, but it is very sad for you, May, to be sacrificed like this."