“Yes, I have patients to see. Be with me at six, and we’ll go somewhere. Only mind, you will sleep here while you are in town. I want to help you, and to be able to put my hand on you at once.”
The result was that Claud stayed three days with his friend; and on the third Leigh had a letter at breakfast from his sister, enclosing one from Mrs Wilton to her son, whose address she did not know, but thought perhaps he might have called upon Leigh.
“Eh? News from home?” said Claud, taking the note, and glancing eagerly at Leigh’s letter the while. “I say, how is she?”
“My sister? Quite well,” said Leigh, dryly.
Claud sighed, and opened his own letter.
“Poor old mater! she’s such a dear old goose; she’s about worrying herself to death about me, and—what!—oh, I say. Here, Leigh! Hurrah! There is life in a mussel after all.”
“What do you mean?”
“Why, hark here. You know I told you that Kate had got her lawyer down there?”
“Yes,” said Leigh, frowning slightly.
“Well, God bless her for the dearest and best girl that ever breathed! She has arranged to clear off every one of the guv’nor’s present liabilities by taking over the mortgages, or whatever they are. The mater don’t understand, but she says it’s a family arrangement; and what do you think she says?”