"And you'll give it into Lord Rockminster's own hands—this day?"
"Surely it will be quite the same if I send the check by a commissionaire; he must get it sooner or later."
The earnest, restless eyes looked strangely supplicating.
"Into his own hands, Maurice!"
"Very well, very well," Mangan had just time to say, for here was the doctor.
Dr. Whitsen examined his patient with the customary professional calm and reticence; asked a few questions, which Lionel answered with such husky voice as was left him; and then he said,
"Yes, you have caught a severe chill, and your system is feverish generally; the throat is distinctly congested—"
"But to-night, doctor—the theatre—to-night!" Lionel broke in, excitedly. "Surely by eight o'clock—"
"Oh, quite impossible; not to be thought of," the doctor responded, with decision.
"Why can't you do something to tide me over, for the one night?" the young man said, with appealing and almost pathetic