“I'm sure I don't know,” said the minister, leaning back in his chair, and passing his hand wearily over his forehead.
“Then send down and excuse yourself. Tell him you're busy, and ask him to come another time!”
“Ah, you know I can't do that, my dear.”
“Very well, then; I will go down and see him. You sha'n't be interrupted.”
“Would you, my dear? That would be very kind of you! Do get me off some way; tell him I'm coming to see him very soon.” He went stupidly back to his writing, without looking to see whether his wife had meant all she said; and after a moment's hesitation she descended in fulfilment of her promise; or, perhaps rather it was a threat.
She met Lemuel not unkindly, for she was a kind-hearted woman; but she placed duty before charity even, and she could not help making him feel that she was there in the discharge of a duty. She explained that Mr. Sewell was very unusually busy that evening, and had sent her in his place, and hoped soon to see him. She bade Lemuel sit down, and he obeyed, answering all the questions as to the summer and his occupations and health, and his mother's health, which she put to him in proof of her interest in him; in further evidence of it, she gave him an account of the Sewell family's doings since they last met. He did not stay long, and she returned slowly and pensively to her husband.
“Well?” he asked, without looking round.
“Well; it's all right,” she answered, with rather a deep breath. “He didn't seem to have come for anything in particular; I told him that if he wished specially to speak with you, you would come down.”
Sewell went on with his writing, and after a moment his wife said, “But you must go and see him very soon, David; you must go to-morrow.”
“Why?”