In her anxiety about him Grace was forgotten, and it was not till dinner-time that her departure was discovered, and poor Mrs. Dorriman felt as though troubles were indeed her portion.
Mr. Sandford did not rally as he usually did, and she on her own responsibility sent for the doctor.
He came and administered remedies. Then he told her privately that her brother had a serious complaint, and that agitation would one day be fatal to him.
"You must keep him quiet; he really must not be either worried or disturbed about anything," said the doctor, not unkindly, but anxious professionally, and determined to insist on his patient's having the only chance of living.
"If I can keep him quiet!" began poor Mrs. Dorriman, "but nothing I can do is of any use. Oh! indeed it is not my fault."
"Of course I do not mean to say it is," he answered hastily, "but I merely give you warning. This attack has been brought on by some violent emotion, and a repetition of it, any mental excitement, will put an end to his life."
Mrs. Dorriman went to his side when the doctor had gone, a whole world of remorse and pain in her heart.
She had been several months with him now, and, though she had never really forgotten the unspoken suspicion, it had been put into a remote corner of her memory. As she looked upon him and marked the careworn face and look of struggle his attack had left, she had a sense of having been treacherous towards him. What did it really matter? Supposing those papers contained some proof against him, would it be of any use confronting him with them?
She was conscious of two things—that the whole attitude of her mind had changed towards him, and that it had also altered towards her husband.
The various scenes she had gone through at Renton had had the effect of turning her thoughts gratefully towards the affection and the peace she had had with her husband.