The boy's head drooped, and fell back on Leycester's arm.
"Tell them not to stop the game," he said; "let somebody play for me!" then he went off again.
The doctor came, a fashionable, hardworked man, a friend both of Leycester's and Guildford's, and bent over the lad as he lay.
"It's a faint," said Lord Charles, nervously; "nothing else, eh, doctor?"
The doctor looked up.
"My brougham is outside," he said. "I will take him home."
Leycester nodded, and carried the slight frame through the hall and placed it in the brougham. The doctor followed. The cool air revived the boy, and he made an effort to sit up, looking round as if in search of something; at last his wandering sight fell on Leycester's, and he smiled.
"That's right, Bell!" said Leycester; "you will be well to-morrow; but mind, no more of this!" and he took the small white hand.
The heir to a marquisate clung to the hand, and smiled again.