This allusion to early misfortunes could generally bring a smile, but this time it failed, and Bell looked from one to the other in genuine concern.
"Phil! Jerry! What is it?" she asked again. "Oh, there has been no bad news, boys? Roger!—"
Gerald groaned.
"Roger!" he said. "That's just it, Bell! No, nothing of the kind you mean. He's well, poor dear old Codger. Better than he will be, when he hears what is going on."
"What is going on? Come, boys, I really must know."
"We met Hilda just now," said Gerald. "Her cousin's come; kind of fiddler-chap from Germany. I'm afraid it's all up with the Codger, Bell."
"Indeed!" said Bell, quietly. "And what makes you think that, Jerry?"
"Oh, we met them just now! He—he's about nine feet tall, to begin with."
"That is a beginning! Where does he expect to end? But I have seen Mr. Ferrers, Jerry. I saw him last night."
"You did? Why didn't you tell a fellow?"