Handing over Miss Cattledon, when we arrived, to the care of Janet, who took her upstairs, and told me tea would be ready soon, I went into Mr. Tamlyn’s sitting-room. He was in the easy-chair before the fire, dozing, but opened his eyes at my entrance.
“Visitor come all right, Johnny?”
“Yes, sir; she is gone to take her cloaks off. Janet says tea is nearly ready.”
“I am quite ready for it,” he remarked, and shut his eyes again.
I took up a book I was reading, “Martin Chuzzlewit,” and sat down on the broad window-seat, legs up, to catch the now fading light. The folds of the crimson curtain lay between me and Mr. Tamlyn—and I only hoped Mrs. Gamp would not send me into convulsions and disturb him.
Presently Dr. Knox came in. He went up to the fire, and stood at the corner of the mantelpiece, his elbow on it, his back to me; and old Tamlyn woke up.
“Well,” began he, “what was the matter at Cooper’s, Arnold?”
“Eldest boy fell off a ladder and broke his arm. It is only a simple fracture.”
“Been very busy to-day, Arnold?”
“Pretty well.”