Gibson, however, approached her, and, with the air of a man who was in possession of the secrets of the family, said, “Perhaps, ma'am, you come on behalf of Miss Gourlay?”
“Whatever my business may be,” she replied, indignantly, “be it important or otherwise, I never communicate it through the medium of a servant; I mean you no offence,” she proceeded; “but as I have already stated that it is of importance, I trust that will be sufficient for the present.”
“Excuse me, ma'am,” replied Gibson, “I only put the question by Sir Thomas's express orders. His state of health is such, that unless upon that subject he can see no one. I will go to him, however, and mention what you have said. He is very ill, however, exceedingly ill, and I fear will not be able to see you; but I shall try.”
Sir Thomas was seated upon a sofa reading some book or other, when Gibson reappeared.
“Well, Gibson, who is this?”
“A lady, sir; and she says she wishes to see you on very important business.”
“Hum!—do you think it anything connected with Miss Gourlay?”
“I put the question to her, sir,” replied the other, “and she bridled a good deal—I should myself suppose it is.”
“Well, then, throw me over my dressing-gown and nightcap; here, pull it up behind, you blockhead;—there now—how do I look?”
“Why, ahem, a little too much in health, Sir Thomas, if it could be avoided.”