A nurse was at the pillow smoothing it. Miss Denham stood at the foot of
the bed.

'Is that pain?' Lord Romfrey said low to Dr. Gannet.

'Unconscious,' was the reply.

Miss Denham glided about the room and disappeared.

Her business was to remove Dr. Shrapnel, that he might be out of the way
when Lord Romfrey should pass him again: but Dr. Shrapnel heard one voice
only, and moaned, 'My Beauchamp!' She could not get him to stir.

Miss Denham saw him start slightly as the earl stepped forth and, bowing
to him, said: 'I thank you, sir, for permitting me to visit my nephew.'

Dr. Shrapnel made a motion of the hand, to signify freedom of access to
his house. He would have spoken the effort fetched a burst of terrible
chuckles. He covered his face.

Lord Romfrey descended. The silly old wretch had disturbed his
equanimity as a composer of fiction for the comfort and sustainment of
his wife: and no sooner had he the front door in view than the
calculation of the three strides requisite to carry him out of the house
plucked at his legs, much as young people are affected by a dancing
measure; for he had, without deigning to think of matters disagreeable to
him in doing so, performed the duty imposed upon him by his wife, and now
it behoved him to ward off the coming blow from that double life at
Romfrey Castle.