"What is the matter?" said poor Mrs. Copley with a scared face. "I can't make out anything from what he says."
"He has caught cold, I think," said Dolly very quietly; though her face was white, and all the time of her ministrations in the kitchen she had worked with that feeling of ice at her heart. "Father, here is your coffee, and it is good; maybe this will make you feel better."
She had set her dishes nicely on the table; she had poured out the coffee and cut a piece of the steak; but Mr. Copley would look at no food. He drank a little coffee, and set the cup down.
"Sloppy stuff! Haven't you got any brandy?"
"You have had brandy already this afternoon, father. Take the coffee now."
"Brandy? my teeth were chattering, and I took a wretched glass somewhere. Do give me some more, Dolly! and stop this shaking."
"Where did you get cold, Mr. Copley?" asked his wife. "You have caught a terrible cold."
"Nothing of the kind. I am all right. Just been in the rain; rain'll wet any man; my coat's got it."
"But when, Frank?" urged his wife. "There has been no rain to-day; it is clear, hot summer weather. When were you in the rain?"
"I don't know. Rain's rain. It don't signify when. Have you got nothing better than this? I shall not stop shaking till morning."