Helmsley looked from one to the other questioningly.
"Do you think I'm ill?" he asked. "I'm not, really! I feel very well."
"That's all right, David, dear!" said Mary, patting his hand. "But you are tired—you know you are!"
His eyes rested on her fondly.
"Yes, I'm tired," he confessed. "But that's nothing." He waited a minute, looking at them all. "That's nothing! Is it, Mr. Bunce?"
"When we are young it is nothing," replied Mr. Bunce cautiously. "But when we are old, we must be careful!"
Helmsley smiled.
"Shake hands, Bunce!" he said, suiting the action to the word. "I'll obey your orders, never fear! I'll sit quiet!"
And he showed so much cheerfulness, and chatted with them all so brightly, that, for the time, anxiety was dispelled. Mr. Bunce took his departure promptly, only pausing at the garden gate to give a hint to Angus Reay.
"He will require the greatest care. Don't alarm Miss Deane—but his heart was always weak, and it has grown perceptibly weaker. He needs complete repose."