It seemed very long before Mr. Gibson came down. He went and stood
with his back to the empty fireplace, and did not speak for a minute
or two.
"He's gone to bed," said he at length. "Robinson and I have got him
there. But just as I was leaving him he called me back and asked
me to let you stop. I'm sure I don't know--but one doesn't like to
refuse at such a time."
"I wish to stay," said Molly.
"Do you? There's a good girl. But how will you manage?"
"Oh, never mind that. I can manage. Papa,"--she paused--"what did
Osborne die of?" She asked the question in a low, awe-stricken voice.
"Something wrong about the heart. You wouldn't understand if I told
you. I apprehended it for some time; but it's better not to talk
of such things at home. When I saw him on Thursday week, he seemed
better than I've seen him for a long time. I told Dr. Nicholls so.
But one never can calculate in these complaints."
"You saw him on Thursday week? Why, you never mentioned it!" said
Molly.
"No. I don't talk of my patients at home. Besides, I didn't want him
to consider me as his doctor, but as a friend. Any alarm about his
own health would only have hastened the catastrophe."
"Then didn't he know that he was ill--ill of a dangerous complaint,
I mean: one that might end as it has done?"
"No; certainly not. He would only have been watching his
symptoms--accelerating matters, in fact."
"Oh, papa!" said Molly, shocked.
"I've no time to go into the question," Mr. Gibson continued. "And
until you know what has to be said on both sides and in every
instance, you are not qualified to judge. We must keep our attention
on the duties in hand now. You sleep here for the remainder of the
night, which is more than half-gone already?"
"Yes."
"Promise me to go to bed just as usual. You may not think it, but
most likely you'll go to sleep at once. People do at your age."
"Papa, I think I ought to tell you something. I know a great secret
of Osborne's, which I promised solemnly not to tell; but the last
time I saw him I think he must have been afraid of something like
this." A fit of sobbing came upon her, which her father was afraid
would end in hysterics. But suddenly she mastered herself, and looked
up into his anxious face, and smiled to reassure him.
"I could not help it, papa!"
"No. I know. Go on with what you were saying. You ought to be in bed;
but if you've a secret on your mind you won't sleep."