He recommended sea air and bathing. She must be out on the shore all day, and run wild. Fresh air, new milk, and country diet would be her best medicine; and, as Dr. Myrtle was an oracle in our household, Mr. Morton at once decided that his advice must be followed. There was a long, anxious deliberation between the parents, and the next morning I was summoned to Mrs. Morton’s dressing-room. I found her lying on the couch; the blinds were lowered, and the smelling salts were in her hand. She said at once that she had had a restless night, and had one of her bad headaches. I thought she looked wretchedly ill, and, for the first time, the fear crossed me that her life was killing her by inches. Hers was not a robust constitution, and, like Joyce, she was most delicately organised. Late hours and excitement are fatal to these nervous constitutions, if only I dared hint at this to Dr. Myrtle, but I felt, in my position, it would be an act of presumption. She would not let me speak of herself; at my first word of sympathy she stopped me. “Never mind about me, I am used to these headaches; sit down a moment; I want to speak to you about the children. Dr. Myrtle has made us very anxious about Joyce; he says she must have change at once.” “He said the same to me, Mrs. Morton.” “My husband and I have talked the matter over; if I could only go with you and the children—but no, it is impossible. How could I leave just now, when our ball is coming off on the eighteenth, and we have two dinners as well? Besides, I could not leave my husband; he is far from well. This late session tries him dreadfully. I have never left him yet, not even for a day.” “And yet you require the change as much as the children.” I could not help saying this, but she took no notice of my remark. “We have decided to send them to my father’s. Do you know Netherton, Merle? It is a pretty village about a mile from Orton-on-Sea. Netherton is by the sea, and the air is nearly as fine as Orton. Marshlands, that is my father’s place, is about half a mile from the shore.” I heard this with some trepidation. In my secret heart I had hoped that we should have taken lodgings at some watering-place, and I thought, with Hannah’s help, I should have got on nicely; but to go amongst strangers! I was perfectly unaware of Mr. Morton’s horror of lodgings, and it would have seemed absurd to him to take a house just for me and the children. “I have written to my sister, Merle,” she continued, “to make all arrangements. My father never interferes in domestic matters. I have told her that I hold you responsible for my children, and that you will have the sole charge of them. I laid a stress on this, because I know my sister’s ideas of management differ entirely from mine. I can trust you as I trust myself, Merle, and it is my wish to secure you from interference of any kind.” It was nice to hear this, but her speech made me a little nervous; she evidently dreaded interference for me.