"I think I must. Prance will be with her, and she will have her child. Perhaps in a few hours Honour may be better."
Mr. Pym had drawn nearer to the bed. Honour was wandering again; was repeating again the same "nonsense," as Mrs. Darling had called it. Alas! she must go on repeating it until some turn to the malady came. The excited brain had its task to perform, and could only go over it, over it, over it, until better moments should dawn. The surgeon listened and heard as much as Mrs. Darling had heard.
"Yes," said he, "it may be as well that you should nurse her. Servants are such gossips."
"Three of them were in, listening, just now. Mr. Pym, how is it that these false notions take possession of an invalid's brain?" asked Mrs. Darling.
Mr. Pym paused before he replied. "How is it that dreams take possession of it?" he returned. "The girl has had an awful shock, and the brain is suffering. The imagination is apt to be erratic at these times, indulging in absurd and fantastic fancies."
"Very absurd and fantastic in this case!" pronounced Mrs. Darling. "Well, I shall stay with her. It must be either myself or Prance."
"Prance won't do," said the surgeon. "She and Honour hate each other like poison."
The plan was carried out. Mrs. St. John, her child, and Prance departed for the cottage; Mrs. Darling remained at the Hall in attendance on Honour; and Mr. Pym did hardly anything but dodge in and out of it all day, walking to and from Alnwick at the pace of a steam-engine. Honour was dangerously ill.
In the dusk of evening, when the house was quiet, and Mrs. Darling sat by the bedside, her brain almost as busy as the one she was there to guard, the thought arose to her that she would put at rest (as far as it could be put to rest) a question that troubled her. In closing the nursery-door quietly--as it had been represented the unfortunate child did close it--would the bolt slip into its groove? Was it possible that it could do so? Mrs. Darling had pondered the doubt that day more than she would have cared to tell. Rising from her chair, she was about to cross the room when some one came in.
"Who's that?" sharply called out Mrs. Darling, somewhat startled.