"But to-morrow," interrupted his wife, "not to-night"
"It were best he leave to-night," replied Lord Derwentwater.
"Ah, no, James," she returned, "it would be ill-usage in any case to dismiss so easily a friend so hard put to it, and the worst usage in the world towards Mr. Clavering. For look, what the boy most needs is a bed."
"And what if he were taken in it! That would be worse usage still. Anna, we cannot risk his life for the sake of our manners."
I seconded him in his advice, for though I was dropping with fatigue, and Lady Derwentwater's words called up I know not what sweet visions of lavender sheets, I knew that at any moment the sheriff's messenger might come rapping at the doors. Lady Derwentwater accordingly said no more, but betook herself to filling my glass and heaping up my plate with an air of such maternal tenderness as pierced me to the heart. If she only knew, I thought—if she only knew what manner of man she tended on! And again I was very near to blurting out my story.
"There is one thing," said I, "which I do not understand. For if Rookley meant my ruin, why should he wait so long to accomplish it? He had the means to hand, the day that I set foot in England."
Lord Derwentwater stopped suddenly in his walk.
"You received my letter yesterday?"
"A letter?" said I. "No! What time of the day was it sent?"
"In the afternoon."