"Dollar," said the doctor, rubbing his hands with a joyous little chuckle—"court-plaster—visit—advice"—
"There it is—good-evening, sir. Edward, show Dr. Fairleigh to the door," said Mr. Wildair, frigidly.
"Good-evening, good-evening," said the bustling little man, hurrying out. "Always send for me whenever any of you think proper to knock your heads against anything. Good-evening," repeated the doctor, as he vanished, with an emphasis so great as to pronounce the word not only in italics, but even in small capitals.
Richmond went over and took Freddy's hand.
"My dearest cousin, how do you feel?" he said.
"Oh, dreadfully ill," she said faintly; "my head does ache so."
"Perhaps you had better go to your room and lie down," said Richmond, his lips quivering slightly. "Mother, you will go with her."
"Certainly, my dear boy. Come, Freddy, let me assist you up stairs."
Putting her arm round Miss Richmond's waist, Mrs. Wildair led her from the room. And then every one present took a deep breath, and looked first at one another and then at their host, with a glance that said, "What comes next?"
But if they expected an apology from Mr. Wildair they were disappointed: for, turning round, he said, as calmly as if nothing had occurred: