“Half an hour ago, madam; and but for your Ladyship's summons I should have been in bed.”
“How do you find Sir Stafford looking poorly, I fear?”
“I haven't yet seen him, madam, but I am prepared for a great change.”
“I fear so,” sighed she, plaintively; “George says, quite a break up; and Buccellini calls it 'Gotta Affievolita,' and says it is very fatal with elderly people.”
“The vulgar phrase of a 'broken heart' is more expressive, madam, and perhaps quite as pathological.”
Lady Hester drew proudly up, and seemed preparing herself for a coming encounter. They were old antagonists, and well knew each other's mode of attack. On the present occasion, however, Grounsell did not seek a contest, and was satisfied by a single shot at the enemy, as if trying the range of his gun.
“You will probably advise a change of air and scene, Dr. Grounsell,” said she, calmly, and as though inviting pacific intercourse.
“It is precisely what I have come for, madam,” answered he, in a short, dry voice. “Sir Stafford's affairs require his immediate return to England. The vicissitudes that attend on great commercial enterprises threaten him with large very large losses.”
Lady Hester fell back in her chair, and this time, at least, her pale cheek and her powerless attitude were not feigned nor counterfeited; but Grounsell merely handed her a smelling-bottle from the table, and went on:
“The exact extent of his liabilities cannot be ascertained at once, but they must be considerable. He will be fortunate if there remain to him one fourth of his property.”