After Lenore's departure there ensued a moment's silence.
Mr. Forde was so lost in astonishment at the audacity of the whole family that he lacked power to give expression to his feelings.
Mr. Kleinwort, having spoken, was thinking what he should say next, and Mrs. Mortomley was struggling between her repulsion against the man and her desire to offer some apology for a rudeness which had been as involuntary as irresistible.
"I beg you to pardon my incivility," she began at last, bringing out her words with a slow reluctance which was almost perceptible. "Trouble does not tend to increase politeness."
"That is indeed true," agreed Mr. Kleinwort, "but you must remember, madam, other people also are troubled with your troubles."
"What is the use of talking in that way," interrupted Mr. Forde. "Do you suppose they care for anything or person but themselves? Do you imagine if Mr. Mortomley had the smallest consideration for us, he would be laid up at such a time as this?"
"Do you think he is not really ill, then?" inquired Mrs. Mortomley.
"I neither know nor care what he is," was the answer. "It is enough for us to be told we cannot see him,—and he will find it more than enough for him,—and you can tell him with my compliments that I say so."
"Yes, bankruptcy is not all pleasure," remarked Mr. Kleinwort with a solemn shake of his round head.