"So I perceive," said Lady Laura. But there was no dismay or trouble in the tone of her voice.
In the countenance of Mr. Kennedy, as he approached closer, there was not much to be read,—only, perhaps, some slight addition of gloom, or rather, perhaps, of that frigid propriety of moral demeanour for which he had always been conspicuous, which had grown upon him at his marriage, and which had been greatly increased by the double action of being made a Cabinet Minister and being garrotted. "I am glad that your headache is better," he said to his wife, who had risen from her seat to meet him. Phineas also had risen, and was now looking somewhat sheepish where he stood.
"I came out because it was worse," she said. "It irritated me so that I could not stand the house any longer."
"I will send to Callender for Dr. Macnuthrie."
"Pray do nothing of the kind, Robert. I do not want Dr. Macnuthrie at all."
"Where there is illness, medical advice is always expedient."
"I am not ill. A headache is not illness."
"I had thought it was," said Mr. Kennedy, very drily.
"At any rate, I would rather not have Dr. Macnuthrie."
"I am sure it cannot do you any good to climb up here in the heat of the sun. Had you been here long, Finn?"