Neil frowned, but said no more, and taking out the telegram he read: "The nurse leaves town this afternoon. Let a carriage meet her at the station. "Hayle." "Hah!" he said, passing the letter to his aunt. "I am glad of that; it will set me free, and the help of a good nurse at a time like this is invaluable." "But shall we be able to trust her?" said Aunt Anne. "My experience of nurses is that they are dreadful women, who drink and go to sleep in sickrooms, and the patient cannot wake them, and dies for want of attention." "Oh, Aunt!" cried Isabel. "I am assured that it is quite true, my dear," said Aunt Anne, didactically. "I think we have changed all that, Aunt, dear," said Neil, smiling. "Sir Denton would not send down any woman who is not thoroughly trustworthy." Aunt Anne pursed up her lips, and tried to look wise and full of experience--a difficult task for a lady with her plump, dimpled countenance. "Well, my dear," she said, "I hope so; but it always seems to me that the selection of an attendant for a sick man is a lady's duty, and I cannot believe in the choice made by a man, and such an old man too. But there, we shall see." "Yes, Aunt, dear," said Neil, smiling, "we shall see." Aunt Anne was left in charge of the patient, very much to her satisfaction, so that Neil could go down with Isabel for a rest and a little fresh air. As they reached the hall they met Alison, who came up directly. "Oh, Neil," he said, "I opened that telegram thinking it might be meant for me." "Yes," said his brother. "I heard that you did." "Quite a mistake I hope you don't mind." "I have other things to take my attention," replied Neil. "Come, Isabel, let's have a walk up and down in the fresh air. I can't stay long." He led the way out on to the drive, and, after hesitating for a few moments, Alison followed, frowning, just as the sound of horses' hoofs was heard, and Saxa and Dana Lydon rode up. "Well, how's the dad?" cried Saxa boisterously. "Going on all right? Glad of it. You boys are making too much fuss over it. Nature soon cures a fall. It isn't like a disease, is it, Doctor?" "It's of no use to ask him," said Dana merrily. "He'll pull a professional face, and make the worst of it, and then by and by, rub his hands and say, `There; see what a clever fellow I am.'" "Yes," said Saxa maliciously, "when I could have set him right with some embrocation and a bit of flannel bandage." "Glad the old man's better," cried Dana. "Here, you people look white and worried. Order out the horses and come for an hour's ride." "Would you like to go, Isabel?" asked Neil. "I? Oh, no," cried the girl hurriedly. "What a baby you are, Bel!" said Saxa contemptuously. "You'll come, Neil?" "I should like a ride," he replied, "but it is impossible to leave home."