Nurse Elisia Part 41

"No, it will rouse him, I say. He shall know everything we have heard, and then we shall have the truth from those boys. Oh, if I had only known before!"

She drew herself up--pale now--with wounded pride, and the agony of spirit which made her speak through her set teeth.

There was a sharp tapping at the door. "May I come in?" cried a familiar girlish voice.

"Yes," said Dana; and Isabel came quickly into the room.

"Come, you two," she cried. "We're waiting dinner. Oh, I see," she added merrily; "dress. Saxa! Dana! what is the matter? Have you had bad news?"

"Yes, baby dear," said Saxa solemnly; "very, very bad news."

"Oh!" cried the girl wildly, as she turned ghastly pale. "News! Tom's s.h.i.+p?"

She reeled and would have fallen, but Saxa caught her, and kissed her affectionately.

"No, no, little one," she cried hastily. "It isn't that."

"Ah!" gasped Isabel, "I thought--Then you two are in trouble."

"Yes, dear. Who is with daddy?"

"With papa? Only the nurse."

"Go and send her away, little one. We must go in and speak to him quite alone."

"Then it is some great trouble."

"Yes, dear. You will know quite soon enough. Now go."

Isabel, who had looked upon them both as elder sisters, whom she must obey, almost from a child, left the room without a word.

"Will it be best to go to him, Saxa?" said Dana hoa.r.s.ely.

"Yes; we may be girls who have been laughed at through the country for our love of horses and the hunt," said Saxa firmly, "but we have always been ladies, and we will show these men that we are not to be treated as if we were already their wives and slaves."

"Papa is quite alone now, Saxa," said Isabel, reappearing at the door.

"O Saxa, dear--Dana--can't I do anything for you?"

"No, dear," said the elder sister gravely, "it is not your fault."

"Nurse said you must please not say anything to agitate papa," said Isabel gently.

Saxa looked at her half pityingly, and then went slowly out, followed by her sister.

"Nurse!" she muttered in a contemptuous whisper, as she went along the corridor to Mr Elthorne's door. "O Dan, quick; let's take the leap, and have it over, for, after all, it can't be true."

She turned the handle of the door, and a cry of welcome arose from the couch.

"Ah, my bonnie Dianas," cried the old man; "this is good of you to come and see me before you go down. Why, how bright and handsome you both look."

Saxa went straight up to the couch, took the two hands extended to her, and bent down and kissed the sufferer; and for the first time now the hardness of her task became plain, and she began to shrink from hurting the poor weak invalid, lying so helpless there.

"Dana, my pet," he said, kissing the younger sister in turn; and then excitedly: "Why your hands are damp and cold. What is it? There is something wrong."

They looked at each other as if to say--"You tell him."

Ralph Elthorne saw it, and his facial muscles twitched, and an angry look came into his eyes, but he pa.s.sed it off with a forced smile.

"Now, now," he cried; "none of that, my dears. It's nothing. We've had many a run together, and I've only had a fall. Don't you two begin any of that nonsense. I was a bit hurt, but I'm Ralph Elthorne still: daddy to you, my darlings, in name only yet, but it's going to be real before long, you know. I'm not ill, only a bit crippled for the present. I'm not an invalid, my dears, so out with it--what is it?"

There were words in his little speech which made their task more difficult still, and they glanced at each other again.

"Come, Saxa," he cried--"come, Dana, let's have it. You don't want to make me angry?"

"No, no," cried Saxa, and she sank upon her knees by him, and laid her head upon his shoulder.

"Then speak out. There's something serious on the way. Ah, I see!

Isabel! She has not gone--absurd! She was here just now."

"No, no, sir; it is not that."

"Hah!" he e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed. "She would not dare. Well, then, what is it?

You, Dana, speak, my child."

Dana was silent, and he turned angrily upon Saxa. "You are the elder girl. Tell me at once. I know: it is something about one of the boys."

"He must know, Dan; speak out," said Saxa firmly.

"Why do you put it on my shoulders?" cried Dana angrily. "Very well, then, if I must. Daddy, it isn't my fault, but that's all over now."

"What is, my girl?"

"All that with Alison; and we've come to say good-bye. We are going back home."

"What?" he cried. "Nonsense! rubbis.h.!.+ Some silly lovers' tiff. What has he said to you? Bah, my pretty one! Go down and box his ugly ears, and make him beg your pardon; you can do it, I know."

"And is Saxa to do the same?" she said bitterly. "What! you are not in trouble, too, with Neil?" Saxa was silent.

Ralph Elthorne made an effort to raise himself, but his head fell back heavily, and he uttered a low moan at his helplessness and wiped his face.

"Look here," he said in a low trembling voice; "I know you two girls love me, and always have, since you were little bits of things, and it all increased when your poor dying father and mother begged me to act as your guardian. Come, now; I've done my duty to you both."

"Always, dear," said Saxa tenderly.

"Then now, both of you do your duty by me. You, Saxa, my child, speak.

You came here to stay for a day or two. I wished it so that you and the boys might see more of each other. I see; you have quarrelled."

"Not yet," said the girl firmly. "There is no need to quarrel; all that is at an end."