'Good-night, my lord,' said Cargrim, softly. 'I trust you will find yourself fully restored in the morning.'
'Thank you, Mr Cargrim; good-night!'
When the chaplain sidled out of the room, Dr Graham rubbed his hands and turned briskly towards his patient, who was standing as still as any stone, staring in a hypnotised sort of way at the reading lamp on the desk.
'Come, my lord,' said he, touching the bishop on the shoulder, 'you must take your composing draught and get to bed. You'll be all right in the morning.'
'I trust so!' replied Pendle, with a groan.
'Of course, bishop, if you won't tell me what is the matter with you, I can't cure you.'
'I am upset, doctor, that is all.'
'You have had a severe nervous shock,' said Graham, sharply, 'and it will take some time for you to recover from it. This visitor brought you bad news, I suppose?'
'No!' said the bishop, wincing, 'he did not.'
'Well! well! keep your own secrets. I can do no more, so I'll say good-night,' and he held out his hand.