He took it from her, and lifted a pen from the table, but his hand shook. ‘I am very nervous,’ he said. ‘It is absurd, but I can’t help it. If you will write, “Come at once; I am in great need of you.” That will do.’
‘Come at once. I am in great need of you,’ repeated Mrs. Bellendean; ‘had not you better add that you will meet her by the early train? Will she be likely to travel by night?’
‘She will come by the first train, whenever that may be.’
‘That will be the night express. I shall add, “Will meet you at Edinburgh.” And now you must put the address.’
He paused a little without replying. ‘You would think that alarming, perhaps, if you got it all at once without any warning?’
‘Yes,’ she said, with a smile, ‘I fear I should; but then no one thinks my help so important as you evidently feel your—this lady’s to be.’
‘My wife,’ he said gravely; ‘my wife. Yes, she is very important. Perhaps you will put at the last, “Nothing that is alarming—rather good.” I think that will do. To Mrs. Hayward, Rosebank, Fairhill, Surrey. How can I ever thank you enough!’ He stooped over her hand, which held out the paper, and kissed it with old-fashioned gratitude—‘To let me send for her, when I am but a stranger myself.’
‘I hope she will be able to help you, Colonel Hayward; and I hope my poor Joyce will get the benefit.’
‘Ah!’ he cried. He had come to himself by means of the ready intervention of the practical in the person of Mrs. Bellendean, but faltered again at this as if she had struck him a blow.
‘Perhaps,’ she added hastily, ‘you would like to see—the letters, and the other relics? perhaps——’