"But I want to see her. Will you tell her?"
Lady Lucy, however, was already in the room. Probably she had heard the message from the open doorway where she often hovered. Oliver held out his hand to her, and she stooped and kissed him. She asked him a few low-voiced questions, to which he mostly answered by a shake of the head. Then she attempted some ordinary conversation, during which it was very evident that the sick man wished to be left alone.
She and Sir James retreated to her sitting-room, and there Lady Lucy, sitting helplessly by the fire, brushed away some tears of which she was only half conscious. Sir James walked up and down, coming at last to a stop beside her.
"It seems to me this is as much a moral as a physical breakdown. Can nothing be done to take him out of himself?--give him fresh heart?"
"We have tried everything--suggested everything. But it seems impossible to rouse him to make an effort."
Sir James resumed his walk--only to come to another stop.
"Do you know--that he just now--sent a message by me to Miss Mallory?"
Lady Lucy started.
"Did he?" she said, faintly, her eyes on the blaze. He came up to her.
"There is a woman who would never have deserted you!--or him!" he said, in a burst of irrepressible feeling, which would out.