"Yes, and now my head is in a whirl. I feel as if I am in for brain fever. Would to God I had remained in Canada," he answered feverishly.
"Tut, tut; a night's rest will set you up," said Stone hastily. "You Canadians are pale in any case, looking as though you feed on gruel."
"Cablegram, sir," said Simon, tapping at the door.
"It's for you, Babbington-Cole," said Stone, handing it.
"From my father's medical man," said Cole nervously, as, on reading it, he returned it to the envelope, and was about pocketing it, when Miss Villiers said, putting out her hand:
"I presume we may see it."
Cole, though with visible reluctance, handed it to her, when she read as follows:
"St. Lawrence Hall,
"Montreal, 25th Sept."To C. Babbington-Cole, Esq.
"Typhoid fever left; but taken cold, sore throat; looking most anxiously for the return of yourself and Mrs. Cole. Pray don't delay.
"John Peake, M.D."
"Too bad, too bad; but you may yet find your father quite well," said Stone, with assumed feeling.
"'In the midst of life we are in death,'" said Miss Stone. "I trust your father has not been a careless liver, Mr. Charles; as a young man, I remember he was much given to the things of the world."