Dr Bolter stepped out by one door, and he had hardly closed it after him, when Mrs Barlow entered by the other.
“Ah, my dear Mrs Bolter,” she sobbed, kissing her in spite of a strong objection evinced by the little lady. “Ah, my dear Miss Stuart, these are terrible times.”
She paused, as if expecting one of those she addressed to speak; but save for acknowledging her salutation, they remained silent. “Have you heard the last news?”
“No,” replied Mrs Bolter, quickly. “Quick! what is it?”
“A couple of boatmen have come in just now with some more relics of our missing party.”
“What relics?” cried Mrs Bolter, as Grey turned deadly pale.
“They have found some scraps of clothing, I believe, and a hat,” said the lady.
“Where? Where are they?” cried Dr Bolter, coming in hurriedly, for he had been waiting by the door in the not very creditable position of an eavesdropper.
“Oh, doctor, how you startled me! I wanted to see you?” exclaimed Mrs Barlow. “I fear I am going to have a bad attack of illness!”
Dr Bolter was saved from a bad attack of Mrs Barlow’s symptoms, described to him at full length, by the opportune arrival of Harley.