“Are we going to wait for Capel?” said Artis.
“I’m so hungry, I feel quite ashamed,” said Katrine; “but I think we ought to wait.”
“There is nothing to be ashamed of in a healthy young appetite, my dear young lady,” said the old lawyer. “I have been reading in my room since six, and I should like to begin. I don’t suppose he will be long. Mr Capel out, Preenham?”
“I think not, sir,” said the butler, who was bringing in a covered dish.
“Perhaps you had better tell him that we are all assembled. He may have overslept himself.”
At the end of five minutes the old butler was back to say that Mr Capel had not answered when he knocked.
“He may be ill,” said Lydia anxiously, and then, catching Katrine’s eye, she coloured warmly.
Preenham gave Artis a meaning look, and that gentleman followed him out.
“What is it?”
“Mr Capel hasn’t been to bed all night, sir.”