"Why, Maurice," said she, as they were about to enter, "you yourself are the very best nurse I ever saw!"
But it was not in this mood that Mangan received Miss Burgoyne when she called that afternoon to make inquiries. She and her brother were shown to the room up-stairs, and thither Mangan followed them. He was very polite and cold and courteous; told her that Lionel was getting on very well; that the fever was subsiding, and that he was quite sensible again, though very weak; and said he hoped his complete recovery was now only a question of time. But when the young lady—with more hesitation than she usually displayed—preferred a request that she might be allowed to see Mr. Moore, Maurice met that by a gently decisive negative.
"He is not to be disturbed in any way. Perfect rest is what the doctors ordain. He has been left a wreck, but his fine constitution will pull him through; in the meantime we have to be most careful."
She was silent and thoughtful for a minute.
"I can't see him?"
"I think not—it would be most unwise. You would not wish to do anything inconsiderate."
"Oh, certainly not. May I write to him, then?" she asked.
"It will be some time before he can attend to any letters. You have no idea how weak he is. We want him to remain in perfect rest and quiet."
"This is Thursday," she said. "Supposing everything goes well, and I called on Tuesday next, could I see him then?"
"By that time it would be easier to say," he answered, with diplomatic ingenuity. "I should think it very likely."