Sir Herbert Saunderson rose hurriedly and rang the bell.
“The car, at once!” he ordered as the servant entered.
“It’s his heart I’m afraid of,” said Mr. Wyatt. He was sitting on the front seat of the landaulette, facing Sir Herbert Saunderson and Dr. Freeman. “I don’t think he knows how bad he is.”
They were already in Chelsea.
“I think it will be better if Mr. Wyatt and I go up together first,” the doctor suggested as they arrived at the door. “If his heart is weak, a sudden emotion might be injurious.”
“I quite agree,” Sir Herbert replied. “In fact, you need not mention my presence. I only want to know your opinion. Now that he will be in good hands I shall feel relieved.”
The doctor jumped out. Sir Herbert detained the other an instant.
“Please keep me informed, Mr. Wyatt. I’m very much indebted to you for telling me about this and for your care of my cousin.”
Mr. Wyatt acknowledged the courteous utterance with a deprecating gesture as they shook hands and followed quickly after the doctor, who was proceeding slowly up the steep staircase.