Mrs. Wyllard dined with her invalid husband. She rarely left him except when he was sleeping under the influence of morphia, or when he asked to be alone. There were hours in his long and weary day in which even his wife's presence seemed a burden to him, and when he preferred to fight his battle in solitude.
Upon this particular evening of Bothwell's return from Trevena his cousin joined him at the dinner-table, an unexpected pleasure.
"I want to hear all your news, Bothwell," she said. "Julian is asleep, and I have half an hour free."
Bothwell told his news gladly, gaily.
"She is coming the day after to-morrow," he said, "and I am to be banished, like Romeo. But I am not afraid of Romeo's ill-luck. You won't give my Juliet a sleeping potion, and bury her alive while I am away, will you? I have taken two rooms in a cottage at Trevena, with an old goody who is to do for me. That will be ever so much cheaper than the inn; and you know that in my position I ought to be economical."
"You ought not to make yourself uncomfortable for the sake of a few pounds."
"Ah, that is your spendthrift's argument. He never can understand that he ought to save a few pounds; and so he dies a pauper; while the man who has a proper respect for pounds—and pence, even—blossoms into a millionaire. I shall be very comfortable with my goody. I shall be out all day, superintending the builder. I shall live upon chops and porter; and I shall sleep like a top every night, in a dear little bedroom smelling of lavender. My goody is clean to a fault. She cast an evil eye at my boots as I went up-stairs. All the articles of furniture in her rooms are veiled with crochet-work, as if the wood were too precious to be exposed to the light. But how grave you are looking, Dora! Has Wyllard been any worse to-day?"
"No; he has been much the same—a sad monotony of suffering. It was of you I was thinking, Bothwell. I saw some news in the county paper which I know will grieve you."
"There has been no accident between Launceston and Dawlish, has there?" gasped Bothwell, starting up from his chair; "the train got back all right——"
"You foolish boy! If there had been an accident, how do you suppose I could hear of it?" exclaimed his cousin, smiling at his vehemence. "How like a lover to imagine that any ill news must needs be about your betrothed, though you only left her three hours ago! No, Bothwell, my bad news concerns an old friend of yours, General Harborough."