Just then voices were heard outside that startled them both, and checked their converse.
“Great heaven, it is your father!” exclaimed Mrs. Calverley. “He has risen from the bed of death to come here!”
Next moment the door was thrown open, and the old gentleman came in, sustained by Norris.
A dressing-gown scarcely concealed his emaciated frame. His features had the most ghastly expression, and bore the impress of death. But for the aid of the old butler he must have fallen to the ground.
Behind him came Mildred, carrying a light.
“Why did you allow him to quit his couch?” cried his wife, in a voice of anguish.
“I remonstrated with him,” replied Norris. “But I could not prevent him. He would come down to see his son.”
“I likewise tried to dissuade him, but in vain,” said Mildred,
“Chetwynd is here, is he not?” cried the old man. “I can't see him.”
“Yes, I am here, father,” he replied, springing towards him, and throwing himself at his feet. “Have you come to grant me forgiveness?”