His nervousness was sufficient indication of the general demoralization of the household. And from one of the rooms above came the sobs of a hysterical woman.
“Brace up, man,” I whispered in reply. “This is no time for you to go to pieces. Where is Miss Colton?”
“She's with her father, sir. Step into the library and I'll call her.”
He was not obliged to call her, for, at that moment, I heard her voice speaking from the head of the stairs.
“Who is it, Johnson?” she asked, in a low tone.
“It's Mr. Paine, Miss Mabel.”
I heard a little exclamation, of relief it seemed to me. Then she appeared, descending the staircase. Her face was, as Lute had said, pale, but her manner was calm, much calmer than the butler's.
She came to me and extended her hand. “Thank you for coming,” she said. “I was sure you would.”
“How is your father, Miss Colton?” I asked.
“He is no worse. Come into the library, please. Johnson, if Mother or the doctor need me, I shall be in the library. Come, Mr. Paine.”