By Gyp's request, they kept from him knowledge of when her pains began.
After that first bout was over and she was lying half asleep in the old
nursery, he happened to go up. The nurse--a bonny creature--one of
those free, independent, economic agents that now abound--met him in the
sitting-room. Accustomed to the "fuss and botheration of men" at
such times, she was prepared to deliver him a little lecture. But, in
approaching, she became affected by the look on his face, and, realizing
somehow that she was in the presence of one whose self-control was
proof, she simply whispered:
"It's beginning; but don't be anxious--she's not suffering just now.
We shall send for the doctor soon. She's very plucky"; and with an
unaccustomed sensation of respect and pity she repeated: "Don't be
anxious, sir."
"If she wants to see me at any time, I shall be in my study. Save her
all you can, nurse."
The nurse was left with a feeling of surprise at having used the word
"Sir"; she had not done such a thing since--since--! And, pensive, she
returned to the nursery, where Gyp said at once:
"Was that my father? I didn't want him to know."
The nurse answered mechanically:
"That's all right, my dear."
"How long do you think before--before it'll begin again, nurse? I'd like
to see him."
The nurse stroked her hair.
"Soon enough when it's all over and comfy.
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