At this moment Mr. Ferdinand entered softly and went up to Mrs. Merillia.
“Mr. Q. Elisha Hubsbee, ma’am. He is deeply distressed and asks for news . . .”
“The Central American Ambassador’s grandfather,” said Mrs. Merillia, reading the card which Mr. Ferdinand handed to her.
“Shocked to hear you are so ill that a knock will finish you. Guess you must be far gone. Earnest sympathy. Have you tried patent morphia molasses?
“Q. E. H.”
“Ah! how things get about! Tell Mr. Elisha Hubsbee the knocks have nearly killed us all, Mr. Ferdinand, but we are bearing up as well as can be expected. If necessary we will certainly try the molasses.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“It is two o’clock now, Hennessey. The Charing Cross office is open till midnight, I believe, so at the present rate you should only have about ninety more telegrams to-day. But if you have reason to expect—”
Mr. Ferdinand re-entered.
“Mrs. Hendrick Marshall has called, ma’am. She desired me to say she was passing the door and was much horrified to find that you are so near the point, ma’am.”