“Has he made his will? With this trouble in the side again, I tell you plainly, Mrs. Decie, there's little or no chance.”
Christian put her hands up to her ears, and ran out into the air. What was she about to do, then—to leave him dying!
XXV
On the following day Harz was summoned to the Villa. Mr. Treffry had just risen, and was garbed in a dressing-suit, old and worn, which had a certain air of magnificence. His seamed cheeks were newly shaved.
“I hope I see you well,” he said majestically.
Thinking of the drive and their last parting, Harz felt sorry and ashamed. Suddenly Christian came into the room; she stood for a moment looking at him; then sat down.
“Chris!” said Mr. Treffry reproachfully. She shook her head, and did not move; mournful and intent, her eyes seemed full of secret knowledge.
Mr. Treffry spoke:
“I've no right to blame you, Mr. Harz, and Chris tells me you came to see me first, which is what I would have expected of you; but you shouldn't have come back.”