"Your father said
I was his best friend, and you ought not to send me away when I might be of
service to him; so let me stay, Dexie."
"Well, I suppose it looks rude to refuse your help; but I am sure mamma and
Gussie would think it improper, if I allowed you to remain," she answered,
with downcast eyes.
"Is that the reason you do not wish me to stay with you?" and he smiled
down at the bowed head. "Do you think conventionality should be considered
when your father's comfort is in question?" he asked. "You know your father
has often asked me to sit with him when he was restless and could not
sleep, but you did not seem willing," he added, seeing she had no reply,
"and I have been anxious to please you in all things, Dexie."
"There was no need to consult me about it," she replied, feeling vexed at
the tone that implied so much more than he had a right to express under the
circumstances, and taking her work-basket to the far side of the table she
sat down to work.
"Must I go or may I stay, Dexie? at least till the time of your father's
usual attack? Be kind this once and say I may stay."
"As you please.
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