He took a walk up and down the room for a few minutes.
“Now that’s where Leslie would be so useful; and he keeps away. Because of Louy, I suppose. Well, what is it? Why have you brought the breakfast back?”
“The young lady said she was coming down, sir,” said the chambermaid, who had entered with a tray.
“Stuff and nonsense!” cried the old man angrily. “Go up and tell her she is not to get up till the doctor has seen her, and not then unless he gives her leave.”
The maid gave her shoulders a slight shrug, and turned to go, when the door opened, and, looking very pale and hollow-eyed, Louise entered.
Uncle Luke gave his foot an impatient stamp.
“That’s right,” he cried; “do all you can to make yourself ill, and keep me a prisoner in this black hole. No, no, my darling, I didn’t mean that. So you didn’t like having your breakfast alone? That’ll do; set it down.”
The maid left the room, and Louise stood, with her head resting on the old man’s breast.
“Now, tell me, uncle, dear,” she said in a low voice, and without looking up, “has poor Harry been taken?”
“No.”