Sons of fire, Vol. III.Braddon, M. E. (Mary Elizabeth)
General
Sons of fire, Vol. III.
Braddon, M. E. (Mary Elizabeth)
English fiction -- 19th century
Two trained nurses from the county hospital alternated the daily and
nightly watch by the sick-bed, and Lady Emily shared the day's, and
sometimes the night's, duty, humbly assisting the skilled attendants,
grateful for being permitted to aid in the smallest service for the son
who lay helpless, inert, and unobserving on that bed which even yet
might be his bed of death.
No one but those three women and the doctors was allowed to enter
Allan's room. Mrs. Wornock was very kind and sympathetic, in spite
of torturing anxieties about her son's unexplained absence; but she
expressed no desire to see Allan, and she seldom saw Lady Emily for
more than a few minutes in the course of the day. The whole house was
ordered with reference to the sick-room. Organ and piano were closed
and dumb, and a funereal silence reigned everywhere.
And so the wintry days went by, and rain and rough weather made a
sufficient excuse for Suzette's staying quietly at home, and seeing
very little of the outer world. Mrs. Mornington took the social aspect
of the crisis entirely on her own hands, and informed her friends that
the wedding had been deferred, partly on account of Allan's illness,
and for other reasons which she was not at liberty to explain.
"My niece is very capricious," she said.
"I hope she has not sent Mr. Wornock off to Africa again!" exclaimed
Mrs. Roebuck. "Such a brilliant young man, with a house so peculiarly
adapted for entertaining, should not be allowed to become an absentee.
It is too great a loss for such a place as this, where so few people
entertain."
Mrs. Roebuck's estimate of her acquaintance was always based upon their
capacity for entertaining, though she herself, on this scale, would
have been marked zero.
"No, I don't think he will go back to Africa. But my niece and he have
agreed to part--for a short time, at any rate. She is sending back all
her wedding-presents this week."
"Oh, pray don't let her send me that absurd Japanese paper-knife! I
only chose it because it is so deliciously ugly and queer. And I knew
that, marrying a man of Mr. Wornock's means, she wouldn't want anything
costly or useful--no fish-knives or salt-cellars."
"Well, if it really is off, or likely to be off," Mr. Roebuck said,
with a solemnly confidential air, "I don't mind saying in confidence
that I think your niece has acted wisely. The young man is a genius,
no doubt; but he's a little bit overstrung--_fanatico per la musica_,
don't you know. And one never knows whether that sort of thing won't
go further," tapping his forehead suggestively.
"Oh, _das macht nichts_; the poor dear young man is _toqué_, only
_toqué_, not _fêlé_," protested Mrs. Roebuck, who affected a polyglot
style.
"Ah, but the mother, don't you know! That's where the danger comes in.
The mother has never been quite right," argued her husband.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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