“But what is it?” said Sir John, in a whisper. “If it is the mushrooms, why are we not all ill?”
“Well, as far as I can make out,” said Oldroyd, “there is nothing the matter with him but a nervous fit, and an indication of too much stimulant. It seems to me that he has frightened himself into the belief that he has been poisoned. But I’ll come in again about twelve.”
“No, no; pray stay, Mr Oldroyd,” cried Sir John. “Come down into the drawing-room, and have a cup of tea and a chat. You don’t think we need telegraph for further advice?”
“Really, Sir John, I fail to see why you should,” said Oldroyd. “Your friend is certainly, as far as my knowledge goes, not seriously ill.”
“Then come and sit down till you want to see him again,” said Sir John. “I’m very glad to know you, Mr Oldroyd. You do know my brother? Yes, and Mr Alleyne? That’s well. Now come and see Miss Day and her friend.—Oh, my dears,” cried the baronet, in his hearty tones, “here is Mr Oldroyd come to cheer you with the best of news. Mr Oldroyd, my daughter—Well, Morris, what is it?”
“If you please. Sir John, cook says, Sir John, she’s very sorry that there should be any unpleasant feeling about the mushrooms; but she had an accident with the ones Major Day sent to be cooked, and those you had for dinner were Jones’s own growing in the pits.”
“I could have sworn they had the regular mushroom flavour,” cried the major.
“Then we needn’t fidget about our dinner,” said Sir John, laughing. “Doctor, you’re right. Morris, that will do.”
Somehow from that minute the evening brightened very pleasantly at Brackley. Lucy thought it charming, and Glynne was an attentive listener to every astronomical word that fell from Alleyne’s lips. Twice over Oldroyd went up to see his patient, and each time came back with the information that he was sleeping heavily, and that there was not the slightest cause for alarm.
After that, no one was uneasy, and Rolph was almost forgotten. Alleyne left with his sister about eleven, the two being sent home in the brougham. Glynne needed no persuasion to go to bed, and Oldroyd sat and smoked a cigar with the major and Sir John in the library till twelve, when he went and had another look at his patient.