His Lordship's physician had quitted the chamber for a few minutes, to make arrangements for continuing with him during the night; and neither Miss Macspleuchan nor Lady Cecilia had spoken for some time. At length the earl, who had become rather restless, faintly muttered at intervals to himself the words—
"Bubble—villain—Blackwall"——
"You see," whispered Miss Macspleuchan, "what he's thinking of. He dined with those people, you know." Lady Cecilia nodded in silence. Presently his Lordship resumed—
"Account closed!—Call on Mr. Gammon—Is Mr. Gammon at home?"——
The current of his recollections had now brought him to the point of danger; and after pausing for a moment, a troubled expression came over his face—he was evidently realizing the commencement of the terrible scene in Mr. Gammon's room—then he seemed to have lost the train of his thoughts for a while, as his features slowly resumed their previous placidity; but the troubled aspect presently returned: his lips were suddenly compressed, and his brow corrugated, as if with the emotion of anger or indignation.
"Monstrous! Two thousand pounds?" He spoke these words in a much stronger voice than those preceding.
"Oh, dear!—I should have thought his Lordship had lost much more than that," whispered Miss Macspleuchan, in a low tone.
"Insist!—Titmouse—Titmouse"—his lips slightly quivered, and he paused for a while. "Shocking! What will she"——an expression of agony came over his face.
"Poor papa! He's evidently heard it all!" whispered Lady Cecilia, faintly.