"I have been very ill, Eugene" he said; "sometimes I hardly thought to be alive till morning, and I wished to say a few words to your father about my wife, but none of you came near me!"
Eugene looked, as his felt, surprised. "We were given to understand that a visit from us would not be agreeable to your grace" he said; "and being hurt at the intimation, especially as the exclusion lasted so long, I came to-day to ascertain the cause."
"I gave no such intimation, I wished for no such exclusion, rather the contrary; but perhaps Adelaide—I think I divine the cause; you must excuse your sister, Eugene. Perhaps she is more annoyed than she showed to me. To me she is ever polite, but doubtless she is annoyed; perhaps it is natural that she should be so," and the duke hesitated.
"Annoyed! At what, may it please your grace? You cannot think that 'annoyed' is a term applicable to my sister's feeling at your illness?"
"No! no! not at my illness, no! But, Eugene, I have spent a long life of vanity before the world, and ere I die I should like the world to know what perhaps the duchess would fain conceal, that I repent of my iniquities, that I thankfully before the chastising hand that has laid me low, that I prize my sufferings as the greatest blessing, as a token that God has not forsaken me, though for so many years I forsook him. Eugene, I am a Catholic!"
"God be thanked!" involuntarily escaped from the young man's lips, as his hand was clasped in that of the duke, and tears started to his eyes, "God be thanked!"
The door opened and the duchess entered. At one glance she understood all, and that her surmises of Eugene had also been correct.
"The duke is better to-day," she coldly said. "We have had a long time of anxiety, but perhaps even yet he may rally and be himself again."
"I dare not flatter you, sister," answered Eugene. "His grace's looks are not those of a convalescent."