"Is Uncle Henry awake?" she asked, when Chalks presented himself. "No, Miss," was the prompt reply, "he is sound asleep, as usual."
"Dear me. And how long will he sleep?"
"Dr. Wentworth can't say, Miss. We tried to wake him, and can't, so Dr. Wentworth said it would be better to let him sleep until he had a consultation with Dr. Jerce."
Clarice cast a look at the French window, and saw that it was open wide, in spite of the fog. "I see that Dr. Wentworth has been here, Chalks," she said, remembering the whimsical explanation of the man about the disagreement between the two physicians. "Yes, Miss," said Chalks, casting a look at the window, "but when Dr. Jerce comes this afternoon, he will have that closed."
"Oh is Dr. Jerce coming this afternoon?"
"Yes, Miss. Dr. Wentworth doesn't like this constant sleeping of the master, and has sent for Dr. Jerce to consult."
"It is just as well," said Clarice, crossing to the bed and looking at the pale, calm face of the still sleeping man. "I want to talk to Dr. Jerce about some business."
This was hardly the term. She wished to ask Jerce why the grey man had searched his pockets, and why he was influencing Barras and Horran to be hard on the vicar. The matter of the purple fern, she intended to relate to no one but Anthony. A memory of his name made her glance at her watch, and she noted that he would soon make his appearance. Horran seemed to be sleeping as placidly as an infant, so she felt that there was no cause for alarm. Bending to kiss the placid face, she turned slowly towards the door.
"By the way, Chalks, have you seen Mr. Ferdinand this morning?" she asked, thinking that her brother might have paid a visit to the invalid.
"Yes, Miss," said the valet, promptly. "I saw him out of this," he waved his hand towards the open French window, "going to the Savoy Hotel."