“The dear old lion in the ass’ skin,” she whispered; “and whenever you try to bray it is always a good honest roar.”
“Well, of all—”
He did not finish, for Madelaine had hurried from the room, but a grim smile came over his cynical countenance, and he rubbed his hands softly as if he was pleased. Then, drawing his chair nearer to the bed, he joined in the conversation at rare intervals, the subjects chosen being all as foreign as possible from the past troubles, till Mrs Van Heldre came softly into the room.
“I am Doctor Knatchbull’s deputy,” she said; “and my orders are not to let John excite himself.”
“All nonsense, my dear,” said Van Heldre.
“She is quite right, John,” said George Vine, rising.
“Quite right,” said Uncle Luke, following his brother’s example. “Keep him quiet. Make haste and get well. Good night. Come, George.”
He was at the door by the time he had finished his speech, and without pausing to shake hands began to descend.
Madelaine came out of the drawing-room as the old man reached the hall.
“What do you think of him?” she said eagerly.