“Eh! isn't he just?” was the rejoinder. “Many a man has been booked for an inside place in a hearse for a less hurt than his; and I don't know that he is out of the wood, even yet.”
“Why, you don't think him worse?” exclaimed Fanny anxiously. “Nothing has gone wrong—you have not been told—are they keeping anything from me?”
“Eh! no! 'pon my word; Ellis, who is getting him into condition, say's he's all right, and will be as fresh as a colt in a month or two. Why, you look quite frightened.”
“You startled me for a moment,” replied Fanny, colouring slightly; “any little relapse renders Sir John so uncomfortable that we are naturally anxious on his account.”
“I am sure Lawless is boring your sister,” observed Oaklands, who had been sitting quite at the farther end of the drawing-room, cutting open the leaves of a new book. “I know that worried look of hers so well:—I shall go and interpose on her behalf.—Lawless,” he continued, crossing over to him, “the billiard-room is lighted up, if you like to challenge Fairlegh to a game.”
“Billiards, eh?” returned Lawless; “why, really, if you had walked as many miles to-day as I have, I don't think you'd much fancy trotting round a billiard-table. Besides, I'm very well off where I am,” he added, with what was intended for a gallant glance towards Fanny; “here's metal more attractive, as the fellow says in the play.”
Oaklands' only reply was a slight curl of the lip, and, turning to Fanny, he said, “Are you at all inclined to take your revenge? We shall have time for a good game if we begin at once; will you come into the music-room, or shall I fetch the chess-men here?”
“Is it not rather late?” replied Fanny hesitatingly.
“Not if we begin now,” returned Oaklands.
“Mr. Lawless was offering to show me some tricks with cards; as they will not take so long a time as a game of chess, perhaps that would be most advisable this evening.”