“I’ll stay a little longer, if you wish,” said the guest courteously.
“That’s right! You shan’t go off to call me a brute and a bully. Why, we used to hit it off pretty well together in the old times! Let’s have ’em over again, for this one evening—eh? just as if nothing had happened.”
And herewith Sir Francis cast aside his dejection and preoccupation, and became once more vivacious and agreeable. His guest had again occasion to admire the man’s really great social and mental powers. Two or three hours passed rapidly. Then, all at once, Sir Francis complained of severe twinges in his right leg and foot.
“That damned gout of mine!” he exclaimed ruefully. “Ah! ah! all up with me for the next day or two! Ah!—may I trouble you to ring that bell? Tuppin—here, Tuppin! I’ve got another attack. See that everything in my room is ready. Whew! Well, my dear Grant, sorry our evening should end so. Better luck next time.”
“Shall I carry a message to your physician?” asked Grant, who had risen to take his leave.
“No—oh, no—I have everything here; shall have to fight it out—no hastening the thing—ah! Good-by, then, till next meeting. Tuppin—ah!—Mr. Grant’s horse; have it brought round to the door.”
“The ’orse is quite ready, Sir Francis, if you please.”
“Good-by, then, Grant, good-by. The lower road, you know, through Isleworth; the lower road, eh?”
“Thank you, I remember. Farewell, and a speedy recovery to you!” And with a kindly look at his suffering host, Mr. Grant left the room under the respectful guidance of Tuppin, and having bestowed a gratuity upon that worthy butler, he mounted his horse and rode away into the summer darkness.