Since the evening when she had marched out of the room in high dudgeon, she had taken not the smallest notice of the sick boy.

His life or death was apparently of far less moment to her than her own offended dignity.

Had he been left in her sole charge, she would doubtless have done her duty to him but to stand by and see another doing it?
No! a thousand times no! That part, insignificant in itself, and yet often one of the very sweetest and most useful in life's harmonies, familiarly called "second fiddle," was a part impossible to be played by Miss Gascoigne.
What she did or said--though probably the first was little and the other a great deal--was happily unknown to Mrs.Grey.

Her one duty lay clear before her, to save her poor boy's life, if any human means could do it.

And sometimes, when she saw the agony and anxiety in his father's face, Christian felt a wild joy in spending herself and being spent, even to the last extremity, if by such means she could repay to her most good and tender husband that never-counted, unaccountable debt of love, which nothing ever does pay except return in kind.
Concerning Arthur himself, the matter was simple enough now.