Lionel read on and on, thrilled at the perusal of dailies and weeklies.
“The strangest of events brought the curtain down on our social pantomime. Quite as strange as the storm of London. If only it brought England to its senses I would not lament over the disappointment of the public.”
“I doubt whether England will take the hint,” said Gwen.
“This is all very strange, dearest Gwen, but still no stranger than my visions; and if it is true that ‘we are such stuff as dreams are made of,’ we can yet hope that our Society will save itself in time.”
The handle of the door was turned and Sir Edward walked in.
“Hullo! already reading, my dear Lord Somerville! You are a wonderful patient, and we shall see you in the Row before long.” Taking Lionel’s hand he felt his pulse. “That’s right, you are better, and you will soon resume your duties at Court. The King was inquiring after you the other day.”
“Very kind of him, I am sure, Sir Edward. I am sorry to disappoint you, but as soon as I can I shall start on a long journey, and England will not see me for many years.”
“My dear Lord Somerville,” and Sir Edward held his patient’s pulse firmly within his slender fingers, “we cannot spare you from London; besides which, this devoted young nurse cannot allow you to abandon her in this way.”
“I shall accompany Lord Somerville wherever he goes,” proudly said Gwen.
Sir Edward laid his patient’s hand gently on the bed and put back his watch into his waistcoat pocket.