Nurse Elisia Part 42

"What?"

"Yes, at an end, guardian," said Dana. "If Alison prefers another woman to me, he may have her."

"Alison? Another woman? Has he dared to trifle with you? to oppose my wishes? No; it is a mistake. And you, Saxa, my girl--what is wrong with you?"

"I say the same as my sister, sir. If Neil Elthorne prefers to marry your nurse, let him; everything between us is at an end."

Ralph Elthorne's jaw dropped, and he looked helplessly, vacantly, from one to the other. Then, raising his hands wildly, he seemed to be fighting for his breath, his convulsed features horrifying the two girls, who were strong-minded in their way, and accustomed enough to scenes of human suffering to look on unmoved, as a rule. But the aspect of their guardian startled them; the callousness produced by their rough, outdoor education dropped away, and they were gentle women once again in the presence of the old man's agony.

"I'll ring for help," panted Dana, and in her confusion she ran to the wrong end of the room to find the bell pull, while Saxa threw herself on her knees by the couch, and caught one of the fluttering hands.

"Oh, daddy! dear old daddy!" she cried, "what have we done?" Then excitedly, "Dan, we were selfish fools to speak. Dear, dear old guardy--we've killed you!"

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.

A FORCED CONFESSION.

"No, no!" panted Elthorne, in a low, husky voice. "Stop! Don't ring!

Better--soon."

He held up one hand firmly now, and Dana turned uneasily toward the other side of the couch.

"Let her call for help, dear," whispered Saxa. "No," said the stricken man feebly, as he battled hard to recover his equanimity; and the sisters trembled, repentant, over their work. "Water, please." Dana flew to the side table, and the hand trembled so that the carafe clattered against the gla.s.s she filled, and the water splashed over the side and on her rich dress as she bore it to the couch.

"Take it, Saxa," she whispered, and the kneeling girl held the gla.s.s to the invalid's lips.

"Hah!" he sighed, after drinking a little, and signing to his ward to take back the vessel. "I can speak now."

"No, no, dear; not now. We ought not to have spoken to you," said Saxa, pressing her lips to his brow. "It was very thoughtless, but we were so angry and could not keep it back."

He nodded, looked at her proudly, and drew her hand to his lips.

"Good girl!" he said. "I'm not angry; only weak. Hus.h.!.+ Wait a little."

"Yes," said Dana quickly. "We'll go now, and write in a few days."

"No. Wait," said the old man in a low voice, but one full of decision.

"I must clear all this up. You cannot go."

They waited for some minutes before he spoke again, thinking the while of the terrible helplessness of the man who had for so many years ruled like a king in their district, and who, even now, was fighting hard to sway his social sceptre still.

"Hah!" he e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed at last. "Absurd to be so weak. Better now. It was sudden."

"Daddy, dear," said Saxa tenderly, "don't revive it. Let it all wait."

"No; not a minute," he said with decision. "I'm strong again now."

He stretched out a hand to each, and smiled at them in turn.

"There," he said; "it's quite a triumph for you girls to see how weak a man can be. Now, then; let's clear all this up--this absurd nonsense about the boys."

"You can't bear it now, daddy," said Saxa, with tears in her eyes.

"I can bear it, little woman. Now, come, my darlings, what silly jealous nonsense is this you have got in your pretty heads? But I'm glad--very glad. You can both be very soft and gentle, I see, when the proper time comes. But fie! Saxa. Shame! Dana. It is madness.

Neil? The nurse? Why, my darling, I did not think you could be so fond of my great, solemn, dreamy boy. But--jealous--and of my good, patient, gentle attendant! Oh, tus.h.!.+ Nonsense!"

He laughed feebly, looking from one to the other, as if seeking for a confession that their charge was only the result of a little pique due to inattention on the part of his sons.

But Saxa and Dana remained by his couch, stern and hard of countenance; and as he watched the frowns gathering on their brows the feeble laugh died away, and his right hand began to tremble again.

"Speak," he said at last, after a painful pause, and he fixed his eyes on the elder sister, whose voice sounded deep and sonorous as she said slowly:

"I'm sorry I spoke, dear," she said. "It was in my pa.s.sion."

"And it is all folly," said Elthorne hastily.

"No, daddy," cried Saxa, with a flash of mortified pride in her eyes; "it is all too true."

"What!" cried Elthorne, turning his eyes on Dana. "Yes," said the latter, repeating her sister's words; "it is all too true."

"It has been going on for months past," continued Saxa.

"At the hospital in London, dear," added Dana, "as well as here."

Ralph Elthorne drew in his breath with a sharp, hissing sound, and lay back staring straight before him, but the sisters, in their returning anger, paid no heed to the change in his countenance, as a spasm pa.s.sed over it, but left him calm and firm again.

"I wouldn't have believed it," cried Saxa, "but I must--I must. It is true."

"What? Neil? My boy Neil?" said Elthorne hoa.r.s.ely. "My quiet, obedient, straightforward son, whose word every man trusts? And Nurse Elisia? I will not believe it."

"Very well, daddy," said Saxa gravely. "You will see."

"Bah! Nonsense, girl. Someone has been poisoning your ears against as true and good a woman as ever breathed."

Saxa rose slowly from her knees, and stood gazing frowningly down in his eyes, as the old man went on in stern tones of reproof.

"Shame on you, Saxa! My boy Neil is too n.o.ble and high-minded to even dream of such a thing. He--the great surgeon who is growing famous!

Why, it would be a crime against you, and an insult to his father. My darling, you should not let such a degrading notion harbour in your brain."

The girl's stern look intensified.

"There, my child," he continued, "I'll speak gently to you. She is a dear good woman, this nurse, and of course poor Neil has been thrown with her a great deal--as doctor and nurse, of course. Come, my dear, let it go. I tell you, as his father, it is not true. And now you, Dana--have you caught the complaint? Has Al laughed and joked with one of the keepers' daughters?"

"No, sir, but he has made and kept a.s.signations with Nurse Elisia in the woods."

"What? It is not true, girl. I could--no, no, I will not be angry. I must not; but I am angry with you, my dears, and yet I'm not, for I'm glad to see more depth in your affection for the boy than has been apparent on the surface. Tell me now: you have not accused them--made this silly, reckless charge?"

"It is of no use to beat about the bush, daddy," said Saxa sadly. "We have not seen the boys; and we will not see them, dear. We are going back home at once."