CHAPTER 3

      Your Aunt had second stroke last night No cause immediate anxiety but suggest you should come down if possible Lord.

      Immediately on receipt of the telegram Elinor had rung up Roddy, and now they were in the train together bound for Hunterbury.

      Elinor had not seen much of Roddy in the week that had elapsed since their visit. On the two brief occasions when they had met, there had been an odd kind of constraint between them. Roddy had sent her flowers—a great sheaf of long stemmed roses. It was unusual on his part. At a dinner they had had together he had seemed more attentive than usual, consulting her preferences in food and drink, being unusually assiduous in helping her on and off with her coat. A little, Elinor thought, as though he were playing a part in a play—the part of the devoted fiancé…

      Then she had said to herself:

      ‘Don’t be an idiot. Nothing’s wrong… You imagine things! It’s that beastly brooding, possessive mind of yours.’

      Her manner to him had been perhaps a shade more detached, more aloof than usual.

      Now, in this sudden emergency, the constraint passed, they talked together naturally enough.

      Roddy said:

      ‘Poor old dear, and she was so well when we saw her the other day.’

      Elinor said:

      ‘I do mind so terribly for her. I know how she hated being ill, anyway, and now I suppose she’ll be more helpless still, and she’ll simply loathe that! One does feel, Roddy, that people ought to be set free—if they themselves really want it.’

      Roddy said:

      ‘I agree. It’s the only civilized thing to do. You put animals out of their pain. I suppose you don’t do it with human beings simply because, human nature being what it is, people would get shoved off for their money by their fond relations—perhaps when they weren’t really bad at all.’

      Elinor said thoughtfully:

      ‘It would be in the doctors’ hands, of course.’

      ‘A doctor might be a crook.’

      ‘You could trust a man like Dr Lord.’

      Roddy said carelessly:

      ‘Yes, he seems straightforward enough. Nice fellow.’

      Dr Lord was leaning over the bed. Nurse O’Brien hovered behind him. He was trying, his forehead puckered, to understand the slurred sounds coming from his patient’s mouth.

      He said:

      ‘Yes, yes. Now, don’t get excited. Take plenty of time. Just raise this right hand a little when you mean yes. There’s something you’re worried about?’

      He received the affirmatory sign.

      ‘Something urgent? Yes. Something you want done? Someone sent for? Miss Carlisle? And Mr Welman? They’re on their way.’

      Again Mrs Welman tried incoherently to speak. Dr Lord listened attentively.

      ‘You wanted them to come, but it’s not that? Someone else? A relation? No? Some business matter? I see. Something to do with money? Lawyer? That’s right, isn’t it? You want to see your lawyer? Want to give him instructions about something?

      ‘Now, now—that’s all right. Keep calm. Plenty of time. What’s that you’re saying—Elinor?’ He caught the garbled name. ‘She knows what lawyer? And she will arrange with him? Good. She’ll be here in about half an hour. I’ll tell her what you want and I’ll come up with her and we’ll get it all straight. Now, don’t worry any more. Leave it all to me. I’ll see that things are arranged the way you want them to be.’

      He stood a moment watching her relax, then he moved quietly away and went out on the landing. Nurse O’Brien followed him. Nurse Hopkins was just coming up the stairs. He nodded to her. She said breathlessly:

      ‘Good evening, Doctor.’

      ‘Good evening, Nurse.’

      He went with the two of them into Nurse O’Brien’s room next door and gave them their instructions. Nurse Hopkins would remain on overnight and take charge with Nurse O’Brien.

      ‘Tomorrow I’ll have to get hold of a second resident nurse. Awkward, this diphtheria epidemic over at Stamford. The nursing homes there are working short-handed as it is.’

      Then, having given his orders, which were listened to with reverent attention (which sometimes tickled him), Dr Lord went downstairs, ready to receive the niece and nephew who, his watch told him, were due to arrive at any minute now.

      In the hall he encountered Mary Gerrard. Her face was pale and anxious. She asked:

      ‘Is she better?’

      Dr Lord said:

      ‘I can ensure her a peaceful night—that’s about all that can be done.’

      Mary said brokenly:

      ‘It seems so cruel—so unfair—’

      He nodded sympathetically enough.

      ‘Yes, it does seem like that sometimes. I believe—’

      He broke off.

      ‘That’s the car.’

      He went out into the hall. Mary ran upstairs.

      Elinor exclaimed as she came into the drawing-room:

      ‘Is she very bad?’

      Roddy was looking pale and apprehensive.

      The doctor said gravely:

      ‘I’m afraid it will be rather a shock to you. She’s badly paralysed. Her speech is almost unrecognizable. By the way, she’s definitely worried about something. It’s to do with sending for her lawyer. You know who he is, Miss Carlisle?’

      Elinor said quickly:

      ‘Mr Seddon—of Bloomsbury Square. But he wouldn’t be there at this time of the evening, and I don’t know his home address.’

      Dr Lord said reassuringly:

      ‘Tomorrow will be in plenty of time. But I’m anxious to set Mrs Welman’s mind at rest as soon as possible. If you will come up with me now, Miss Carlisle, I think together we shall be able to reassure her.’

      ‘Of