CHAPTER VII.
STARTLING NEWS.
It is ten o'clock in the morning, and Mr. Merivale, senior partner of Merivale, Waymark, & Co., bankers, is seated at the table in his own private room, meditating an attack upon the formidable pile of letters which lies before him. He is looking pale and depressed on this, the morning after his children's party, and is saying to himself that if only Waymark were back, he really would take a few days' rest. He is just about to open one of the letters when a tap comes to the door, and the head and confidential clerk, Mr. Hobson, enters the room. He starts back, however, as Mr. Merivale raises his head from the still unopened letter in his hand, and muttering to himself "God bless my soul!" hurries to the mantel-piece, where a glass jug of cold water stands, and quickly pouring out a glassful he takes it to his principal, saying, "You look a little faint and tired this morning, sir; will you drink some water, and then I will ring for the sherry? Dear, dear, how very pale you are, to be sure!" and the kind old man bustles over to the bell, which he pulls vigorously. Then hastening to the door, and at the same time keeping one eye on Mr. Merivale, he opens it, and pouncing on a young clerk who is leisurely strolling down the passage with his hands in his pockets, gives him a sharp peremptory order, which astonishes that young gentleman not a little.
On turning back into the room the old man is immensely relieved to see a little colour once more in the face of Mr. Merivale; but he will not allow him to speak as yet, and the housekeeper at the bank entering at this moment with the sherry, he seizes the decanter from the tray, and pours out a glass. Then Hobson stands by his elbow, waiting patiently until the short gasps of breath become longer and more regular, and the spasm, which had frightened him very considerably, has passed off. Then he quietly insists on Mr. Merivale taking the sherry, and in a few minutes has the satisfaction of seeing him sit upright in his chair, apparently himself again, though with a face still pale and drawn-looking.
"Thanks, Hobson, thanks!" he says, passing his hand over his forehead. "Don't look so anxious, old friend; I have had these little attacks once or twice before, but I assure you it is nothing serious. My wife was telling me only a day or two since that I ought to have advice; but I know just what the doctor would say—'General debility and want of tone,' &c. &c., and then he would suggest rest, and change of air and scene, and all the rest of it, which you know, as well as I do, I cannot get while Waymark is away. Take some sherry, Hobson, and do sit down."
"Ay, that's just where it is," replies the old man slowly. "This is really what I came to speak to you about, sir. Is it your wish that I should attend to this matter of Clayton & Co."
"Yes, by all means, Hobson. I shall be really grateful if you will take it all off my shoulders; and, of course, if there is any little thing you want to talk over, why, you will know where to find me if I am not here."
"Just so, just so," replies the old man, getting up. "And now, sir, if you will take my advice you will go straight home and rest for the remainder of the day. You trust me, sir, to see that all's right, and if anything particular should take place during the day, I might perhaps step round in the evening. Now, shall I send for a cab for you?—the brougham has gone off long ago, of course."
A cab being procured, Mr. Merivale gets into his overcoat, and, accompanied by Mr. Hobson, goes down the steps of the bank. As the cab drives away, the old man, who is still watching it, shakes his head, and says mournfully to himself, "No, no, I don't like it at all. I have never seen such pallor but once before, and then— Oh, a telegram—answer prepaid, eh? All right! I'm coming;" and the old man goes back to his desk with a heavy heart, and opening the yellow envelope returns to the business of the day.
* * * * * * * *
Miss Denison and her pupils are all seated round the school-room fire, in various stages of fatigue and sleepiness. There has been a sociable high-tea at seven o'clock instead of the usual late dinner, at which all the family, from Mr. Merivale down to Bobby, have been present.