“No, only think of yourself for a moment; perhaps you can rest a little, for you need it, dear.”
A flame of color burned in his cheek at the unusual endearment.
“I shall bring you a cup of tea presently,” she said as she left him.
The morning passed into afternoon. Silence hung upon the house. A card had been pinned under the door-bell; and the many friends, who in the short time since the sick man’s arrival had heard of his illness, dropped in quietly and left as they came.
Dr. Kemp came in after luncheon. Mr. Levice was sleeping,—in all truth, one could say easily, but the doctor counted much from the rest. He expected Dr. H——- for a consultation. This he had done as a voucher and a sort of comforting assurance that nothing would be left undone. Dr. H——- came in blandly; he went out gravely. There was little to be said.
Kemp walked thoughtfully upstairs after his colleague had left, and went straight to Arnold’s room. The freedom of the house was his; he seemed to have established himself here simply through his earnestness and devotion.
“Mr. Arnold,” he said to the Frenchman, who quickly rose from his desk, “I want you to prepare your aunt and your cousin for the worst. You know this; but if he should have a spell of coughing, the end might be sudden.”
A cold pallor overspread Louis’s face at the confirmation of his secret fears.
He bowed slightly and cleared his throat before answering.
“There will be no necessity,” he said; “my uncle intends doing so himself.”