"Oh, where is he, Marcus? I have not seen him for more than an hour. Ah, you may well think that something has happened. I never was present at such a scene. Mr. Barton is his son Alwyn. They recognised each other in a moment. Poor Mr. Gaythorne accused himself of harshness and made a sort of apology, but Mr. Alwyn looked so angry and contemptuous, and would not shake hands. And then he asked after his mother and sister—they are dead, you know. And then, oh, he broke down and sobbed so dreadfully that it quite upset me.
"I am sure the poor old man was trying to get to him when he suddenly fell down at his feet, and Mr. Alwyn screamed out, thinking he was dead."
"Yes, I see, poor little Livy. What a sad scene; but you behaved very well. Now, as there is nothing more you can do, suppose you take Barton—I mean Gaythorne—back with you. We can't let him go to the Models now, and it would not be safe to have him here. Give him some food and talk to him. Mrs. Crampton will look after my comforts. I will run across later on and tell you how he is." And then Olivia reluctantly obeyed him. Marcus was right, and she would not venture to contradict his orders, but how she longed to stay and share his watch.
"Good child," he said, kissing her. "You are a splendid doctor's wife! No fuss and no arguing." And this little bit of praise went far to console her.
"Promise me that you will take care of yourself and I will do my best for Mr. Alwyn," she said, nestling up to him for a moment. And then the door-bell rang, and Phoebe, with rather a scared face, went to the door.
"Is Dr. Luttrell here?" asked a clear voice that they both recognised as Greta Williams's, and then she caught sight of them and stepped into the hall.
"They told me you were here, so I ventured to come across," she said, in a low tone, as Marcus looked at her anxiously. "Oh, there is nothing wrong, only nurse forgot to ask you something, and as it was a fine evening I said I would call."
"I am coming round later on. I am sorry you have had your walk for nothing," returned Marcus. And then they went apart and talked together for a few minutes. Then Marcus went back to his patient and Greta joined Olivia, who was sitting on the oaken settee by the blazing fire. She was tired out with the strain of the last two hours, and felt in need of a little rest before she went in search of Alwyn.
"Sit down, Greta,", she whispered. "How strange you should have come to this house! But then everything is strange to-day——" But here she stopped confusedly, as she remembered Mr. Gaythorne's injunction.
"Why is it strange?" asked Greta, innocently. "There is someone seriously ill here, is there not? But your servant did not tell me the name. How pale and tired you look, Mrs. Luttrell! I suppose it is some friend of yours who is ill?" She glanced at Olivia questioningly, but she only nodded in answer.