"I will go at once; we will start immediately," almost gasped Queenie.
"I should do so by all means. If you like, I will speak to Mr. Logan on my way home, and see if he cannot, temporarily at least, fill up your place. There was a young person Faith mentioned who would be very likely to suit. Shall I manage this for you, eh?"
"I shall be greatly obliged if you will," she answered gratefully.
"Then about the place, where will you decide on going? There's a friend of mine, a doctor, a sort of connection of ours, living at St. Leonards; he and his wife are very good people. If you thought of going there I would write to Bennet, and he would look after Miss Emmie."
"I think I would rather go there, then; it will feel less lonely if Dr. Bennet is a friend of yours," a sudden terrible sense of isolation and banishment coming over her.
"Very well, then, we will decide on St. Leonards, and I will ask them to look out some cheerful apartments for you. You are not particular about price, I dare say; and I can rely on his wife's choice. She is a very good homely body, and will be a great comfort to you—when the child gets worse," he added to himself.
"When ought we to go?" she asked in a low voice, feeling all at once as though Fate were too strong for her.
"Humph! well, suppose we say in a week from now. I will talk to Mr. Logan, and I dare say we can find somebody to take the cottage off your hands. The less leave-taking and fuss the better in such a case, don't you think so, eh?"
"If Mr. Logan releases me there will be no difficulty about anything else," she returned quietly, and Dr. Stewart was charmed with her good sense and reasonableness. She forced herself into seeming cheerfulness when the child returned, and they sat down at last to their long-delayed meal. When they had finished she beckoned Emmie to the stool at her feet.
"Darling, are you glad?" she began. "Dr. Stewart says that I must take you away to the sea, nothing else will make you strong."