CHAPTER XXXVIII
THE HAND OF DEATH WAS ON HIM TOO
A respectable looking butler opened the door in answer to Doctor Newington's pull at the bell.
Luke had had time—on the day preceding the inquest—to put some semblance of order in his uncle's household. The doctor had sent in the nurses, and he had seen to a nice capable housekeeper being installed in the house. She took the further management at once in her own hands. She dismissed the drunken couple summarily and engaged a couple of decent servants—a butler and a cook.
The house, though no less gloomy, looked certainly less lonely and neglected.
Mr. Warren, who had been Lord Radclyffe's secretary for years, but who had been speedily given his congé when the imposter took up his permanent abode in the house, was installed once more in the library, replying to the innumerable letters and telegrams of inquiry which poured in with every post.
Louisa and Sir Thomas were shown into the room where the young man was sitting. He rose at once, offering chairs and pushing his own work aside. In the meanwhile the doctor had gone up stairs.
Several minutes elapsed. No one spoke. Mr. Warren, who had always been deeply attached to Luke de Mountford, was longing to ask questions, which, however, he was too shy to formulate. At last there was a knock at the door and one of the nurses came in to say that Lord Radclyffe would be pleased to see Sir Thomas Ryder up stairs.
Louisa rose at the same time as her uncle, but the latter detained her with a gesture full of kind sympathy.
"Not just yet, my dear," he said. "I'll call you as soon as possible."