by L. T. Meade
yourself in that fashion?" said Ethel.
"She had the beginning of the attack when I was with her," said Molly."I am worse than you, Nesta, worse than you, Ethel, for you did not seeher. I gave her some sal volatile, and she got sleepy, and I put ashawl over her and left her. I am worse than either of you."
"Well," said Ethel, rousing herself, "I don't believe it is as bad asthis. I don't think it can be. I'll go up and find out."
She went out of the room, but she tottered very badly as she went up thestairs, glancing behind her as though fearful of her own shadow. Therewas a light in the spare room; the door was partly open. She peeped in.Dr Anstruther was there. He was pacing up and down.
"Ah!" he said, when he saw Ethel's face. "Come in."
He looked at her again, and then said quietly--"Sit down."
He went to the table, poured something into a glass, mixed it withwater, and brought it to the girl.
"Drink this," he said.
"I don't want to," replied Ethel.
"Drink it at once," said the doctor.
She obeyed; it was strong sal volatile and water.
"Now," he said, "you clearly understand that the duty you have toperform to-night in this house, is absolutely to forget yourself--obliterate yourself if necessary. Don't do one single thing that youare told not to do, and if you can, keep your sisters in the background.You may all be wanted at any moment, or you may not. You are not, anyof you, to go to your mother's room without my permission. Don't thinkof yourselves at all. If there is any way in which you can help theservants, do it, but do it quietly, and don't become hysterical; don'tadd to the trouble in the house to-night."
"But we have all neglected her--"
"You can tell your clergyman that in the morning--you can tell your Godto-night--it is not my affair. I have to do with the present. Act nowwith obedience, with utter quiet, with calm, with self-restraint. Godown now and tell your sisters what I have said."
"I will," said Ethel. She went out of the room.
"Poor child!" thought Dr Anstruther. "I had to be hard on her to keepher up; she'd have broken down otherwise. God grant that those girlshave not a rude awakening--they very nearly did have it--God help them,poor things."
When Mr Aldworth and Horace returned late that evening, it was thedoctor who drew the poor husband into his own study and told him thetruth. He concealed as much as possible of the girls' conduct; headmitted that Mrs Aldworth had been neglected during the day, but hemade the best of it.
"In any case," he said, "this attack was quite likely to come. Hadthere been any one near her it might not have been so prolonged, and theconsequences would not have been so serious; but it was bound to come."
"And Marcia?" said the father then.
"Oh, she is all right, she is a brick--she is one in a thousand."
CHAPTER ELEVEN.
REPENTANCE AND AFTERWARDS.
The three girls found themselves in their own bedroom.
"Don't turn up the light," said Ethel. "Let's sit in the dark."
"It doesn't matter," said Molly, "we'd best have the light, we may bewanted."
"Yes, I forgot that," replied Ethel.
She turned on the gas, which roared a little and then subsided into asullen yellow flame. The shade belonging to the gas jet had been brokenthat morning by Nesta in a game of romps with her two sisters.
"How hot it is," said Nesta presently.
No one took any notice of her remark, and after a time Ethel spoke.
"I ought to tell you," she said.
Molly turned her haggard face.
"What?" she asked. "If it is anything awful, I shall scream."
"You won't--so there!"
"What do you mean? How can you prevent me?"
"I saw," said Ethel, and she gulped down a sob in her throat--"I saw DrAnstruther, and he said we were to forget ourselves--to obliterateourselves--that was the word he used--to keep ourselves out of sight.We might be wanted, or we might not. We're of no account--no account atall--that was the kind of thing he said, and I'm not a bit surprised."
"Nor am I," said Nesta; "we're beasts. I wish we could be killed. Iwish we could be buried alive. I wish--I wish--anything but what hashappened."
Molly went and stood by the window.
"I'm the worst of you," she said after a pause.
"No, you're not," said Nesta--"I'm the worst. Nothing would havehappened at all if I hadn't run away in that mean, horrid, detestablefashion. I thought it was such a joke. You both really did think youhad a day off, and it was my turn to be with her--with her. Why, I'dgive my two hands to be with her now." Nesta held out her two plumplittle hands as she spoke. "The doctor may cut them off; he may chop mein bits--he may do anything if only I might be with her."
"Well, you cannot," said Ethel; "you're no more to her now than the restof us. What you say is quite right; you did do worse."
"No, don't say that," interrupted Molly, "I was the worst. I saw theattack begin, and I knew it, for I have seen it before. But I shut itout of my mind; there was a door in my mind, and I shut it firm andlocked it, and forced myself to forget, and when she was lying there sowhite and panting for breath, I just put a shawl over her, and said, youwill have such a nice sleep, and I went away back to my fun--my fun!Fancy my eating strawberries and cream, and mother--mother so ill.Fancy it! Think of it?"
"I don't want to think of it," said Ethel. "I wish we could havesomething to make us go into a dead sleep. I want this night to go by.I don't think that Marcia should have all her own way."
Then she remembered the doctor's words.
"I wish I might dare to open the door very softly," said Nesta, "andjust creep, creep upstairs and watch outside. I wish I might. Do youthink I might?"
"I don't see why you shouldn't," said Ethel, with a momentary gleam ofhope. "You can walk just like a cat when you please. No one ever wasas good going down creaking stairs as you when you want to steal thingsfrom the pantry. You may as well make yourself useful as not. Go alongand report; tell us if all is quiet."
Nesta, with a momentary sense of relief at having something to do,slipped off her shoes and left the room. She came back at the end offive minutes.
"There isn't a sound--I don't think things can be so bad," she said, andshe closed the door behind her.
She had scarcely uttered the words before there came a tap, sharp anddecisive, and Horace came in. The girls had never loved Horace; it mustbe owned that he had never done anything to make his young sisters carefor him. He had kept them at a distance, and they had been somewhatafraid of him. They saw him now standing on the threshold with a trayin his hand, a tray which contained three cups of hot cocoa and threethick slices of bread and butter, and when they read, not disapproval,but sorrow in his face, it seemed to the three that their hearts threwwide their doors and let him in. Nesta gave a gasp; Molly choked downsomething. Ethel jumped up and sat down again and clasped her hands.
"I knew you'd be all feeling pretty bad," said Horace, "so I came to sitwith you for a minute or two, and here's some cocoa. I made it myself.I'm not much of a cook, but drink it up, you three, and then let ustalk."
"Horace--oh, Horace--may we?"
"Drink it up first. Nesta, you begin. Why, whatever have you done toyour face?"
"It got torn with some briars, but it doesn't matter," said Nesta. Sherubbed her face roughly; she would have liked to make it smart. Anyoutward torture would be better than the fierce pain that was tugging ather heart. But the cocoa was hot and good, and warm as the summer nightwas, the three girls were chilly from shock and grief. Horace insistedon their eating and drinking, and then he sat down on a little sofawhich was placed at the foot of the two small beds. He coaxed Nesta tosit next to him.
"Ethel, you come and sit on the other side," he said, "and, Molly,here's a chair for you just in front."
He managed to take the three pairs of hands and to warm them all betweenhis own. Then he sa
id cheerily:
"Well, now, the very best thing we can do, is to make ourselves asuseful as possible. We won't think of the past."
"But we must--we must, Horace," said Molly. "And I'm the worst. I'dlike to confess to you--I wish I might."
"My dear, I'm not a bit of a father confessor, and we have quite troubleenough in the house at present without raking up what you have done.There, if you like, I'll tell you. You have, all three of