“Is that communication true?”
She looked at him for a few moments, and then said,—
“Yes.”
“That will do, ma’am,” he said, drawing in his breath with a low hiss; and, rising and walking to the window, he took no further notice of his visitor, who gladly escaped from the room.
A few minutes later he rang the bell.
“Send down and see if Dr Rumsey is at home,” he said.
The servant glanced at him to see if he was ill, left the room, and in half an hour the doctor was closeted with the banker in his study.
“I’m a little feverish, Rumsey,” said Mr Penwynn, quietly; “write me out a prescription for a saline draught.”
Dr Rumsey asked him a question or two, and wrote out the prescription. The banker took it, and passed over a guinea, which the doctor hesitated to take.
“Put it in your pocket, Rumsey,” said his patient, dryly. “Never refuse money. That’s right. Now I have a question or two to ask you.”