“Are you ill?” said Temple.
“I am not,” said Carlton, pointing to a seat.
“I knew there must be some cause for your being up at this late hour, I thought it could be nothing less than sickness.”
“It is something more than sickness.”
“Is it any thing in regard to which I can be of any service to you? I am entirely at your command.”
“Thank you—you can do nothing for me. I have received a letter from home.”
“It contains bad news.”
“Yes.”
“Is your father ill?”
“My father is well; but I am informed that another—friend has a mortal disease.”