'I am sent, sir,' said Mrs Arbuthnot's maid, 'to ask if the post has
arrived.'
'Yes,' replied Mr Arbuthnot, with wonderful mastery of his voice.
'Tell your mistress I shall be with her almost immediately, and that
her--her son is quite well.'
'Mr Tyrrel,' he continued, as soon as the servant was out of hearing,
'there is, I think, a liqueur-stand on the sideboard in the large
dining-room. Would you have the kindness to bring it me,
unobserved--mind that--unobserved by any one?'
I did as he requested; and the instant I placed the liqueur-frame
before him, he seized the brandy _carafe_, and drank with fierce
eagerness. 'For goodness' sake,' I exclaimed, 'consider what you are
about, Mr Arbuthnot: you will make yourself ill.'
'No, no,' he answered, after finishing his draught, 'It seems scarcely
stronger than water. But I--I am better now. It was a sudden spasm of
the heart; that's all. The letter,' he added, after a long and painful
pause, during which he eyed me, I thought, with a kind of
suspicion--'the letter you saw me open just now, comes from a
relative, an aunt, who is ill, very ill, and wishes to see me
instantly. You understand?'
I _did_ understand, or at least I feared that I did too well. I,
however, bowed acquiescence; and he presently rose from his chair, and
strode about the apartment in great agitation, until his wife's
bedroom bell rang.
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