“What wonderful, what incredible luck!” exclaimed Roger, forgetting for the moment the grim central circumstance, and was ashamed next instant, especially as Thomson’s voice sounded distinctly severe and shocked:
“I fear it cost her ladyship her life, sir.”
“You’re right, Thomson. The whole thing is too terrible, and I oughn’t to have spoken like that. But it is a relief to know that the papers, at least, are safe. They are tremendously important. But, look here, Thomson, is there anything I can do? I am terribly concerned and anxious about Sir Robert. Do you think I ought to come back to town to-morrow, or—or even to-night? I don’t want to, of course, and, if possible, I shall keep the news from—Mrs. Carling—till the morning——”
There was a little pause—only a few seconds, though it seemed longer—before Thomson replied:
“I don’t think it should be at all necessary, sir. I’m sure you can do nothing for Sir Robert at present; the doctors do not anticipate any immediate danger.”
“Well, I’ll ring you up in the morning then.”
“Very good, sir. I hope you will not consider it presumptuous of me to express my deep regret that these terrible occurrences should have marred your wedding day, and to convey my respectful wishes to you and your good lady?”
“Presumptuous! Good Lord, no! It’s very kind of you, Thomson. Many thanks,” said Roger, again smiling involuntarily. “Well, if Sir Robert should ask for me, tell him you’re in touch with me.”
“I will, sir. Good night, sir.”
“Good night.”