"He is not right, miss. I took him up his cup or tea and slice of dry toast about five, and he was lying back, as he often does, asleep, as I thought, in the chair. I says, 'Here's your tea, sir,' but he made no answer, and I spoke again twice without making him hear; then I touched his hand; it was stone cold; so I got water and dabbed his brow, when he sat up all of a sudden, and swore at me for making him cold and damp with my—I don't like to say the word—rags. Then he shivered and shook like an aspen; but I made up the fire and popped a spoonful of brandy in his tea—he never noticed. But he kept asking for you, miss. I think he doesn't know he was bad."
Katherine hastened to her uncle, greatly distressed at having been absent at the moment of need. In her eagerness she committed the mistake of asking how he felt now, and received a tart reply. There was nothing the matter with him, nothing unusual—only his old complaint, increasing years and infirmity; still he was not to be treated like a helpless baby.
Katherine felt her error, and turned the subject; then, returning to it, begged him to see a doctor. This he refused sternly. Finally she had recourse to an article on the revenue in the paper, which soothed him, and she saw the old man totter off to bed with extreme uneasiness, yet not daring even to suggest a night light, so irritable did he seem.
Before she slept she wrote a brief account of what had occurred to Mr. Newton, and implored him to come and remonstrate with his client.
CHAPTER VII.
THE BEGINNING OF THE END.
Katherine Liddell had never spent so uneasy a night, save when her mother had been ill. Her nerves were on the stretch, her ears painfully watchful for the smallest sound. What if the desolate old man should pass away, alone and unaided, in the darkness of night! The sense of responsibility was almost too much for her. If she could have her mother at her side she would fear nothing. She was up early, thankful to see daylight, and eager for Mrs. Knapp's report of her uncle.
Generally the old man was afoot betimes, and despised the luxury of warm water. This morning Mrs. Knapp had to knock at his door, as he was not moving, and after a brief interview returned to inform Katherine that Mr. Liddell grumbled at her for being up too early, and on hearing that it was half past eight, said she had better bring him a cup of tea.
Katherine carried it to him herself. He took very little notice of her, but said he would get up presently and hear the papers read.