Rupert coloured up, and hesitated for a moment.
"I must see Lady Railton, then?" he continued hastily.
"Her ladyship is ill, sir—really very ill. She is not suffered to see any body. My lord has forbidden any one to approach her but her maid. I hope no offence, but I heard Doctor Bennett tell her ladyship that it was of the highest consequence to keep Mr Sinclair away for the present."
"Is she really so ill, sir?" asked Rupert, turning pale, and with a quivering lip.
Mister Brown drew his handkerchief from his pocket, and applied it to his eyes.
"She is indeed, sir," said that hoary hypocrite; "we have had a dreadful time of it. I thought his lordship would have blown his brains out. My lady was given over for a week. For my own part, I may say that duty and feeling have struggled in my bosom till I am quite worn out, and it's quite impossible for me to say who will be laid up next."
"I must see my father, Mr Brown," said Sinclair, advancing a step or two, to the great discomfort of the butler, who was evidently sadly perplexed by the conflicting emotions of his mind; for whilst he acknowledged Lord Railton for his master, he respected Mr Sinclair as his heir, and felt how important it was to obey his present lord without declining to serve the youth whom he hoped to make his future lord. "I must see him. Go to him, I beg of you, and tell him I am here."
So saying, Mr Sinclair advanced a few steps further, and found himself unhindered in the dining-room—moreover, to his surprise and agitation, in the presence of his father. Mister Brown vanished. To behold his parent, to fall on his knees before him, and to grasp his hand, was the work of a moment. Lord Railton recoiled as though a serpent, and not his child, had wound about him. He was livid with rage, and an unnatural hate was settled in his cold, yet piercing eye.
"Your pardon, father!" cried the youth.
"Never, so help me"——