His lordship tapped the arms of his easy chair with the lingers of both hands, and looked unconsciously upon his servant, with a face full of the deepest sorrow and anguish.
The look was not lost upon Morty, who said, as he went down stairs, “There's something beyond the common on my lord's mind this day. He was bad enough before; but now he looks like a man that has got the very heart within him broken.”
He met Dunroe in the hall, and delivered his message, but added,
“I think his lordship has had disagreeable tidin's of some kind to-day, my lord. I never saw him look so ill. To tell you the truth, my lord, I think he has death in his face.”
“Well, Morty,” replied his lordship, adjusting his collar, “you know we must all die. I cannot guess what unpleasant tidings he may have heard to-day; but I know that I have heard little else from him this many a day. Tell Mr. Norton to see about the bills I gave him, and have them cashed as soon as possible. If not, curse me, I'll shy a decanter at his head after dinner.”
He then went rather reluctantly up stairs, and presented himself, in no very amiable temper, to his father.
Having taken a seat, he looked at the old man, and found his eyes fixed upon him with an expression of reproof, and at the same time the most profound affliction.
“Dunroe,” said the earl, “you did not call to inquire after me for the last two or three days.”
“I did not call, my lord, certainly; but, nevertheless, I inquired. The fact is, I feel disinclined to be lectured at such a rate every time I come to see you. As for Norton, I have already told you, with every respect for your opinion and authority, that you have taken an unfounded prejudice against him, and that I neither can nor will get rid of him, as you call it. You surely would not expect me to act dishonorably, my lord.”
“I did not send for you now to speak about him, John. I have a much more serious, and a much more distressing communication to make to you.”