"And no matter what I say, or how I behave, he persecutes me with his addresses. It is dreadful. Poor papa has promised him that I shall be his wife, and he treats me as if I were his own--as if he were my master--till I feel as if I wish I were dead." "So as to break the poor trusting sailor's heart?" "No, no, no," cried Isabel piteously; "don't, don't say that." "Then never say those foolish, wicked words again, dear." "But I am so wretched," sighed Isabel. "I have wanted again and again to see and talk to papa--to beg him to speak to Sir Cheltnam, and tell him that I have tried so hard to do what he wishes, but that I cannot-- indeed, I cannot--though he has set his mind upon it all just as he has upon my brothers marrying Saxa and Dana Lydon and--and," she cried passionately, "they don't care for them a bit." There was another long pause, during which Isabel wept bitterly. "What shall I do?" she cried at last, gazing piteously in the other's face. "Wait, dear." "But Sir Cheltnam?" "You must try and avoid him till your father has recovered his strength, and can bear to hear adverse matters." "But if I saw him, and spoke to him gently, and appealed to him?" "In his condition anything like opposition might bring on a serious attack, dear. Even trifles make him so angry that your brother fears he may sometime have a fit. He is in a very precarious state, Isabel, and a serious matter like this might--I hardly dare tell you what might happen. Come; you said you would trust me. I will help you." "But Sir Cheltnam? My aunt thinks she is doing right, and encourages him to come and torture me. What shall I do?" "Wait and trust to me?" "But it so hard." "Hush! There is someone in the next room." Elisia rose, and entered the bedchamber. "Oh, you are there," said Aunt Anne shortly. "I am quite sure that my poor brother ought not to be left alone so long." "I was in the next room, madam, and if he had spoken a word I should have heard him directly," said the nurse softly. "It does not seem like it, for I have been here some time." "Excuse me, Mrs Barnett, Mr Elthorne must not be awakened suddenly." "What do you mean?" "Speak lower, if you please, ma'am." "Really!" cried Aunt Anne, "this is growing insufferable! My good woman, you quite forget your position here. Are you aware that I am your senior by many years, and have had great experience in a sick room?" "Possibly, madam. I am not doubting what you say. I am only going by the instructions I received from Sir Denton Hayle. Mr Elthorne must be saved from everything likely to produce a nervous shock." Aunt Anne looked her up and down with indignant scorn, and then marched--it could hardly be called walking, the movement was so mechanical and studied-- straight to the door, and went out without a word. "Poor woman!" said Nurse Elisia, softly; "and yet she is a sweet, amiable lady at heart."