“I can not see it. It is dark—dark. My lord.”
“Here, William. What is it?” Thus speaking, the earl moved softly back to the bedside and took the baronet’s thin, cold hand in his own warm grasp. “Have you something more to say?”
Chester looked up half vacantly but with an expression of eagerness not to be mistaken.
“Yes. Sit down, my lord.”
“I am sitting. Do you not see?”
“Not plainly; but I can feel your hand.” He paused here, and for a brief space seemed buried in profound thought. At length he turned the poor sightless eyes once more toward his host, and went on, with deep and anxious feeling:
“Lord Allerdale, will you tell me what is your plan in regard to Matthew. Is he to live here always with you?”
“Would it give you relief if I should answer you in the negative?”
“Oh! my lord! Do not think I would seek to drive the boy from his proper home. No! no! no! no! Yet—yet—you will not allow him to—”
“Stop! Stop where you are, William, and let me think a little bit.” With this the earl took a turn across the room with his head bowed and his arms folded on his breast. When he came back his countenance had cleared and a brighter look was on his face than had been there for a considerable time.