"I'm all right, my dear," said Mr. Horran, trying to recover his self-command, and patting Clarice's hand. "I'm only upset a little."
"And no wonder, after that fit."
"It is not the fit. That is all right now. I have been sleeping for about ten hours, and woke some time ago, feeling much better. Indeed, I felt so well, that I decided to rise, and take a stroll on the terrace, in the winter sunshine. Then I received a shock."
"What kind of a shock?"
"We won't say anything about it just now," said Horran, in a weak voice. "It would not interest you, and besides, I don't wish to talk of it. I have told no one, not even Chalks."
"Told him what?"
"Nothing, nothing," maundered on the old man, staring into the fire. "I feel ever so much better, my dear, only I can't help crying--some sort of emotion from the shock."
Clarice slipped down beside him, and held his cold hands. "Dear Uncle Henry, tell me what is the matter," she implored, "it isn't Ferdy?"
"No, no! Ferdy is all right. He's a good boy and very kind. It is very strange, Clarry, but I am now beginning to feel drowsy, and a few minutes ago, I was so wide-awake. Oh, dear me," he sighed, "I do wish Daniel, or Dr. Wentworth would find out what is the matter with me."
"They will find out soon, dear," said Clarice, soothingly.