“Yes,” he answered.
Just then there was a knock at the door, and the servant brought in a telegram. It was from the oculist. He would be glad to see Sir Ernest Kershaw at four o’clock on the following afternoon.
“I have made an appointment for you with an eye-doctor, Ernest, at four o’clock to morrow.”
“To-morrow!” he said.
“Yes. The sooner you get your eyes looked to the better.”
He sighed. “What is the good? However, I will go.”
And so next morning they all took the express, and at the appointed time Ernest found himself in the skilful hands of the oculist. But though an oculist can mend the sight, he cannot make it.
“I can do nothing for you, Sir Ernest,” he said, after an exhaustive examination. “Your eyes will remain as they are, but you must always be blind.”
Ernest took the news with composure.
“I thought as much,” he said; but Dorothy put her handkerchief to her face and wept secretly.