“Why, Mr. Meadows,” cried she, “you look as bright as a May morning; it is quite refreshing to see you; we are all rather down here this morning.”
Meadows said nothing, and did not seem at his ease under this remark.
George rose from the table; so did Susan; Robinson merely pushed back his chair and gave a comfortable little sigh, but the next moment he cried “Hallo!”
They looked up, and there was William's face close against the window.
William's face was remarkably pale, and first he tried to attract George's attention without speaking, but finding himself observed by the whole party, he spoke out.
“George, will you speak a word?” said he.
George rose and went out; but Susan's curiosity was wakened, and she followed him, accompanied by Meadows.
“None but you, George,” said William, with a voice half stern, half quivering.
George looked at his brother.
“Out with it,” cried he, “it is some deadly ill-luck; I have felt it coming all day, but out with it; what can't I bear after the words I have borne this morning?”