He stopped again; and finding Mr. Lorimer still somewhat dazed by this sudden attack, he turned and began to pace the room to give him time to recover.

There followed a prolonged silence.  Then at last, with a deep sigh, the Vicar dropped down again in his chair.

“My good, doctor,” he said, “I am convinced that your motives are good though your language be somewhat lacking in restraint.  I am sorely perplexed; let me admit it!  Mrs. Denys is, I believe, a thoroughly efficient housekeeper, but—­” he paused impressively—­“her presence is a disturbing element with which I would gladly dispense.  She is continually inventing some pretext for presenting herself at the study-door.  Moreover, she is extremely injudicious with the children, and I am bound to think of their spiritual welfare before their mere bodily needs.”

He was evidently anxious to avoid an open rupture, so perhaps it was as well that he did not see the look on Tudor’s face as he listened to this harangue.

“Why don’t you pack them off to school?” said Tudor, sticking to the point with commendable resolution.  “Peace in the house is absolutely essential to Mrs. Lorimer.  All the elder ones would be better out of it—­with the exception of Jeanie.”

“And why with the exception of Jeanie, may I ask?” There was a touch of asperity in Mr. Lorimer’s voice.  He had been badly browbeaten, and—­for some reason—­he had had to submit.  But he was in no docile mood thereafter.

Tudor heard the note of resentment in his tone, and came back to the hearth.  “I have been awaiting a suitable opportunity to talk to you about Jeanie,” he said.

“What next?  What next?” said Mr. Lorimer fretfully.

Tudor proceeded to tell him, his tone deliberately unsympathetic.  “She needs most careful treatment, most vigilant watching.  There is a weakness of the lungs which might develop at any time.  Mrs. Denys understands her and can take care of her.  But she is in no state to be entrusted to strangers.”

“Why was this not mentioned to me before?” said Mr. Lorimer querulously.  “Though the head of the house, I am always the last to be told of anything of importance.  I suppose you are sure of what you say?”

“Quite sure,” said Tudor, “though I should be absolutely willing for you to have another opinion at any time.  As to not telling you, I have always found it difficult to get you to listen, and, as a rule, I have no time to waste on persuasion.”  He looked at the clock.  “I ought to be going now.  You will consider what I have said about sending the other children away to school?  You’ll find it’s the only thing to do.”

Mr. Lorimer sighed again with deep melancholy.

Tudor squared his shoulders aggressively.  “And with your permission I’ll tell Mrs. Denys that you have reconsidered the matter and hope she will remain for a time at least, if she can see her way to do so.”