“I suppose,” I said, “that I’d better go down and see him. He says he’s in great pain, so he’s not likely to be agreeable; but still I’d better go.”
“Do,” said Marion; “and, of course, if there’s anything I can do, anything I can send down to him—”
“I don’t expect he’s as bad as all that,” I said. “Men like Godfrey are never seriously hurt. But if he expresses a wish for chicken jelly I’ll let you know at once.”
I started at once. I met Bob Power just outside my own gate. He was evidently a little embarrassed, but he spoke to me with the greatest frankness.
“I’m extremely sorry, Lord Kilmore,” he said, “but I am afraid I hurt your nephew last night.”
“Badly?”
“Not very,” said Bob. “Collar bone and a couple of ribs. I saw the doctor this morning.”
“Broken?”
“Yes. It wasn’t altogether my fault. I mean to say—”