"No, do not misunderstand me. I was merely going to say that I would call again—not about the night-school."
The Colonel was silent, with a manifest effort. Edred bowed to him, and shook hands with Dorothea.
"Please come again. He will not mind—another time. Something must have happened," she murmured, almost inaudibly. If the Colonel heard, he made no sign. Edred's face broke into a slight smile.
"Pray don't think about it again," he said.
The door was hold open for him in grim style by the Colonel, and in his rear it was shut with a bang.
"Thank goodness that's over! Night-school, indeed! I wonder what next! The conceit of these young fellows!"
"Was there any need to be so vexed?" asked Dorothea sorrowfully.
No answer came at first. Colonel Tracy was tossing over some books with unsteady hands. Dorothea watched him in growing fear. She had never seen him so flushed and excited, so entirely off his balance. Though a fussy man about his food, he was abstemious in taking wine; yet a dread darted through her mind. Could he for once have taken too much? She had heard and read of such things.
Suddenly he dropped the books, let himself heavily into the arm-chair, and covered his heated face with two broad hands. Groan after groan burst from him.
"Father!" said Dorothea. She stood by his side, anxious yet quiet. "Tell me what is the matter."