“How is he now, Crampton?” said Vine, as Harry’s heart began to palpitate with the fear that all this was intended for him.
“Dying,” said the old man, shortly.
“No, no, not so bad as that,” cried Louise and her father in a breath. “Doctor Knatchbull said—”
“What doctors always say, Miss Louise, that while there’s life there’s hope. ’Tisn’t true. There’s often life and no hope, and it’s so here.”
“Crampton, you are taking too black a view of the matter,” said Vine, quickly. “It’s very good of you to be so much moved as his old and faithful servant, but let’s all, as a duty, look on the best side of things.”
“There is no best side,” said Crampton, bitterly. “The whole world’s corrupt. Well; what do you people want to say?”
“To say? We have come to be of help if we can. Come, Louise, my dear.”
He took a step forward, but the old man stood fast.
“You know all there is to know,” said the old clerk sourly, as he looked half angrily at Vine, and then, totally ignoring Harry, he turned his eyes on Louise, when the hard look softened a little. “Send in by-and-by if you want to hear, or I’ll send to you—if he dies.”
“Dies!” cried Vine, with a start of horror. “No, no; he is not so bad as that.”