Toby got up.
"I'll take it, Jack," he said. "Lily's carriage is still waiting."
"Thank you, Lord Evelyn," said the doctor. "Sir John Fox will certainly see you if you send your card in. He will be at home now. In fact I need not write. Bring him back with you, please."
Toby left the room, and Dr. Ferguson got up.
"She is very ill?" said Jack.
"Yes, the condition may become critical in an hour or two. I shall then"—and he looked at Jack—"I shall then have to try to save Lady Conybeare at whatever cost."
Jack gave a sudden short crack of laughter, but recovered himself.
"Meanwhile, Lord Conybeare," continued the doctor, "you are to consider yourself a patient too. I insist on your having lunch."
"I can't eat," said Jack.
"Excuse me, but you have got to. And you too, Lady Evelyn. By the way, Lady Conybeare tells me she had a fall. That, of course, caused this premature event. When did it happen?"