"I am very sorry, papa. I dare say you do find East Lynne dull."

"Dull! That's not it; I have other reasons for wishing East Lynne to be
quit of us. And now you can't go to the concert."

Isabel's face flushed. "Not go, papa?"

"Why, who is to take you. I can't get out of bed."

"Oh, papa, I must be there. Otherwise it would like almost as though--as
though we had announced what we did not mean to perform. You know it was
arranged that we should join the Ducies; the carriage can still take me
to the concert room, and I can go in with them."

"Just as you please. I thought you would have jumped at any plea for
staying away."

"Not at all," laughed Isabel. "I should like West Lynne to see that I
don't despise Mr. Kane and his concert."

Later in the day the earl grew alarmingly worse; his paroxysms of pain
were awful. Isabel, who was kept from the room, knew nothing of the
danger, and the earl's groans did not penetrate to her ears. She dressed
herself in a gleeful mode, full of laughing willfulness, Marvel, her
maid, superintending in stiff displeasure, for the attire chosen did not
meet her approbation. When ready, she went into the earl's room.

"Shall I do, papa?"

Lord Mount Severn raised his swollen eyelids and drew the clothes from