"Yes, I know I am; I'm all that, and more besides."
She laughed, and he laughed. In the laughter of neither of them was there any merriment. The sounds they emitted were merely mechanical.
[CHAPTER XIV]
IN CUTHBERT GRAHAME'S ROOM
On Isabel's return to the house she was greeted on the threshold by Martha, the Martha Blair whose connection with Gregory Lamb's present place of residence seemed destined to have a considerable bearing on Isabel's future life, and, at least, to settle the debated question of what her future name and title were to be. Martha's whole attitude was significant of some great happening. Her hands were raised; it seemed that if possible her hair would have been raised too; her eyebrows were elevated to quite a perceptible degree. Her eyes and mouth were wide open; agitation, of a not unpleasant kind, streamed from every pore of her. Behind was Jane, every whit as interested as her companion; but as she happened to be both the younger and the smaller her opportunities for display were less pronounced. Outside stood Dr. Twelves' dogcart; the horse, untended and untethered, apparently content to stand still as long as any one desired.
Martha broke into speech before Isabel had a chance to plant her foot upon the doorstep.
"Oh, Mrs. Grahame, the master! Mr. Cuthbert, ma'am!"
"Mr. Cuthbert, ma'am!" echoed Jane from the rear.
"Mr. Cuthbert? Well, what's the matter with Mr. Cuthbert? Let me come in, don't stand there blocking up the way! Do you hear, what's the matter with Mr. Cuthbert?"
"He's dead, ma'am--he's dead."