There was a much more lasting trouble at the rectory. Rex arrived there only to throw himself on his bed in a state of apparent apathy, unbroken till the next day, when it began to be interrupted by more positive signs of illness. Nothing could be said about his going to Southampton: instead of that, the chief thought of his mother and Anna was how to tend this patient who did not want to be well, and from being the brightest, most grateful spirit in the household, was metamorphosed into an irresponsive, dull-eyed creature who met all affectionate attempts with a murmur of "Let me alone." His father looked beyond the crisis, and believed it to be the shortest way out of an unlucky affair; but he was sorry for the inevitable suffering, and went now and then to sit by him in silence for a few minutes, parting with a gentle pressure of his hand on Rex's blank brow, and a "God bless you, my boy." Warham and the younger children used to peep round the edge of the door to see this incredible thing of their lively brother being laid low; but fingers were immediately shaken at them to drive them back. The guardian who was always there was Anna, and her little hand was allowed to rest within her brother's, though he never gave it a welcoming pressure. Her soul was divided between anguish for Rex and reproach of Gwendolen.
"Perhaps it is wicked of me, but I think I never _can_ love her again," came as the recurrent burden of poor little Anna's inward monody. And even Mrs. Gascoigne had an angry feeling toward her niece which she could not refrain from expressing (apologetically) to her husband.

There was a much more lasting trouble at the rectory. Rex threw himself on his bed in a state of apathy, which the next day began to be interrupted by signs of illness. Nothing could be said about his going to Southampton: instead, the chief thought of his mother and Anna was how to tend this patient who did not want to be well, and from being the brightest, most grateful spirit in the household, was changed into a dull-eyed creature who met all affectionate attempts with a murmur of "Let me alone."
His father was sorry for his suffering, and sat with him now and then, parting with a "God bless you, my boy." Anna was always there, and was allowed to hold his unresponding hand. Her soul was divided between anguish for Rex and reproach of Gwendolen. And even Mrs. Gascoigne had an angry feeling toward her niece which she could not refrain from expressing to her husband.
