"I am not the least tired," said Marcella, and Miss Raeburn rang.
"Tell his lordship, please, that Miss Boyce is here."
The title jarred and hurt Marcella's ear. But she had scarcely time to catch it before Aldous entered, a little bent, as it seemed to her, from his tall erectness, and speaking with an extreme quietness, even monotony of manner.
"He is waiting for you—will you come at once?"
He led her up the central staircase and along the familiar passages, walking silently a little in front of her. They passed the long line of Caroline and Jacobean portraits in the upper gallery, till just outside his own door Aldous paused.
"He ought not to talk long," he said, hesitating, "but you will know—of course—better than any of us."
"I will watch him," she said, almost inaudibly, and he gently opened the door and let her pass, shutting it behind her.
The nurse, who was sitting beside her patient, got up as Marcella entered, and pointed her to a low chair on his further side. Susie Hallin rose too, and kissed the new-comer hurriedly, absently, without a word, lest she should sob. Then she and the nurse disappeared through an inner door. The evening light was still freely admitted; and there were some candles. By the help of both she could only see him indistinctly. But in her own mind, as she sat down, she determined that he had not even days to live.
Yet as she bent over him she saw a playful gleam on the cavernous face.
"You won't scold me?" said the changed voice—"you did warn me—you and
Susie—but—I was obstinate. It was best so!"