Her mistress spoke again, before Mr. Gallilee could reply. “Marceline! send Joseph up here.”
“No,” said Mr. Gallilee.
His wife eyed him with astonishment. “Why not?” she asked.
He said quietly, “I forbid it.”
Mrs. Gallilee addressed herself to the maid. “Go to my room, and bring me another bonnet and a veil. Stop!” She tried to rise, and sank back. “I must have something to strengthen me. Get the sal volatile.”
Marceline left the room. Mr. Gallilee followed her as far as the door—still leading his little daughter.
“Go back, my dear, to your sister in the schoolroom,” he said. “I am distressed, Zo; be a good girl, and you will console me. Say the same to Maria. It will be dull for you, I am afraid. Be patient, my child, and try to bear it for a while.”
“May I whisper something?” said Zo. “Will Carmina die?”
“God forbid!”
“Will they bring her back here?”