Before he could make any response, the door opened and a servant announced Viscount Leyton.
Violet Graham turned pale, and rising, passed out of the room by one door as Blair entered by the other.
The earl held out his hand; Blair, advancing quietly, took it, and the two men, the great earl and the one who would so soon take his place, looked at each other; then the earl let Blair's hand drop, and sighed.
"Great heavens!" he said, in the low and feeble voice, "judging by countenances we might well change places!" and he looked at Blair's haggard but still handsome face.
Blair smiled grimly.
"What have you been doing? But no need to ask. Have you been trying to kill yourself?"
Blair smiled again, and then sank into a chair.
"Never mind me, sir," he said, gently, and his voice, for it was as soft as a woman's when he was moved, made the old man wince; "I am of no account. I did not know you were so ill until I got your letter—or rather Violet Graham's. Are you better? I trust so."
"Oh, yes, I am better. I shall soon be quite well—if there is any truth in the pleasant things good people tell us of the other land. But I did not ask you to exchange sickroom commonplaces with a dying man——"
Blair laid his still strong hand upon the thin, shriveled one.