"A general failure without any particular disease. If it were not that I
know better, I would say that something lay heavily upon his mind."
"Humph! a second case of that kind to-day! Well, madam, I will join you
at two o'clock," said the doctor, as he trotted off towards the negro
quarters.
Punctually at the hour the doctor presented himself at the luncheon
table of Mrs. Brudenell. There were present Mrs. Brudenell, her two
daughters, her son, and a tall, dark, distinguished looking man, whom
the lady named as Colonel Mervin.
The conversation, enlivened by a bottle of fine champagne, flowed
briskly and cheerfully around the table. But through all the doctor
watched Herman Brudenell. He was indeed changed. He looked ill, yet he
ate, drank, laughed, and talked with the best there. But when his eye
met that of the doctor fixed upon him, it flashed with a threatening
glance that seemed to repel scrutiny.
The doctor, to turn the attention of the lady from her son, said: "I was at the hut on the hill to-day. One of those poor girls, the
youngest, Nora, I think they call her, is in a bad way. She seems to me
to be sinking into a decline." As he said this he happened to glance at
Herman Brudenell. That gentleman's eyes were fixed upon his with a gaze
of wild alarm, but they sank as soon as noticed.
"Poor creatures! that class of people scarcely ever get enough to eat or
drink, and thus so many of them die of decline brought on from
insufficiency of nourishment. I will send a bag of flour up to the hut
to-morrow," said Mrs. Brudenell complacently.
Soon after they all arose from the table.
The little doctor offered his arm to Mrs. Brudenell, and as they walked
to the drawing-room he found an opportunity of saying to her: "It is, I think, as you surmised. There is something on his mind. Try to
find out what it is. That is my advice. It is of no use to tease him
with medical attendance."
When they reached the drawing room they found the boy with the mail bag
waiting for his mistress. She quickly unlocked and distributed its
contents.
"Letters for everybody except myself! But here is a late copy of the
'London Times' with which I can amuse myself while you look over your
epistles, ladies and gentlemen," said Mrs. Brudenell, as she settled
herself to the perusal of her paper. She skipped the leader, read the
court circular, and was deep in the column of casualties, when she
suddenly cried out: "Good Heaven, Herman! what a catastrophe!"