"When may I hope to have the pleasure of paying my respects to him?"
"That is more than I can say, in the present state of his health."
"But surely----" began Burgo, and then he stopped. He had been about to say, "But surely he will see me, even although he may not be able to see any one else," when he suddenly remembered that between himself and his uncle there now interposed a barrier which all his wishes might perchance prove powerless to overpass.
"It will, I trust, Mr. Brabazon, be sufficient if I state that at the present time my husband is not in a condition to see any one--any one at all." She laid a marked emphasis on the words "my husband."
The young man bent his head gravely. "I am sorry to hear you say that, madam--very sorry indeed. I trust, however, that you will not fail to convey my love and dutiful respects to my uncle, who has, indeed, been both father and uncle to me for the last eighteen years." In Burgo's voice there was an unwonted tremor.
"I will not fail to give your message to Sir Everard," said Lady Clinton, with a half-smile which just showed the pearly line of her teeth.
Burgo, watching her, said to himself, "This woman is my enemy."
He was at a loss to know whether he was now expected to rise and take his leave. Had he been summoned to Great Mornington Street simply to be told that his uncle was ill and declined to receive him?
But Lady Clinton did not leave him long in doubt.
"Pardon me, Mr. Brabazon," she went on after a momentary pause, "but did you really come here to-day with the expectation that your uncle would receive you with the same degree of cordiality and affection which he has accorded you on so many previous occasions?"