Castle Richmond Part 15

"Oh, it does not hurt me hardly at all. I don't mind it in the least." And then the door was opened for them.

They all flocked into the hall, and there they were met by Lady Fitzgerald.

"Oh, mamma," said Mary, "I know you're quite frightened out of your life! But there's nothing the matter. The horse tumbled down; but there's n.o.body hurt."

"And we had to walk home from the turn to Ballyclough," said Emmeline. "But, oh mamma, what's the matter?" They all now looked up at Lady Fitzgerald, and it was evident enough that something was the matter; something to be thought of infinitely more than that accident on the road.

"Oh, Mary, Mary, what is it?" said Aunt Letty, coming forward and taking hold of her sister-in-law's hand. "Is my brother ill?"

"Sir Thomas is not very well, and I've been waiting for you so long.

Where's Herbert? I must speak to Herbert." And then the mother and son left the hall together.

There was then a silence among the four ladies that were left there standing. At first they followed each other into the drawing-room, all wrapped up as they were and sat on chairs apart, saying nothing to each other. At last Aunt Letty got up.

"You had better go up-stairs with Lady Clara," said she; "I will go to your mamma."

"Oh, Aunt Letty, do send us word; pray send us word," said Emmeline.

Mary now began to cry. "I know he's very ill. I'm sure he's very ill.

Oh, what shall we do?"

"You had better go up stairs with Lady Clara," said Aunt Letty. "I will send you up word immediately."

"Oh, don't mind me; pray don't mind me," said Clara. "Pray, pray, don't take notice of me;" and she rushed forward, and throwing herself on her knees before Emmeline, began to kiss her.

They remained here, heedless of Aunt Letty's advice, for some ten minutes, and then Herbert came to them. The two girls flew at him with questions; while Lady Clara stood by the window, anxious to learn, but unwilling to thrust herself into their family matters.

"My father has been much troubled to-day, and is not well," said Herbert. "But I do not think there is anything to frighten us. Come; let us go to dinner."

The going to dinner was but a sorry farce with any of them; but nevertheless, they went through the ceremony, each for the sake of the others.

"Mayn't we see him?" said the girls to their mother, who did come down into the drawing-room for one moment to speak to Clara.

"Not to-night, loves. He should not be disturbed." And so that day came to an end; not satisfactorily.

CHAPTER IX.

FAMILY COUNCILS.

When the girls and Aunt Letty went to their chambers that night, Herbert returned to his mother's own dressing-room, and there, seated over the fire with her, discussed the matter of his father's sudden attack. He had been again with his father, and Sir Thomas had seemed glad to have him there; but now he had left him for the night.

"He will sleep now, mother," said the son; "he has taken laudanum."

"I fear he takes that too often now."

"It was good for him to have it to-night. He did not get too much, for I dropped it for him." And then they sat silent for a few moments together.

"Mother," said Herbert, "who can this man have been?"

"I have no knowledge--no idea--no guess even," said Lady Fitzgerald.

"It is that man's visit that has upset him."

"Oh, certainly. I think there is no doubt of that. I was waiting for the man to go, and went in almost before he was out of the house."

"Well?"

"And I found your father quite prostrated."

"Not on the floor?"

"No, not exactly on the floor. He was still seated on his chair, but his head was on the table, over his arms."

"I have often found him in that way, mother."

"But you never saw him looking as he looked this morning, Herbert.

When I went in he was speechless, and he remained so, I should say, for some minutes."

"Was he senseless?"

"No; he knew me well enough, and grasped me by the hand; and when I would have gone to the bell to ring for a.s.sistance, he would not let me. I thought he would have gone into a fit when I attempted it."

"And what did you do?"

"I sat there by him, with his hand in mine, quite quietly. And then he uttered a long, deep sigh, and--oh, Herbert!"

"Well, mother?"

"At last, he burst into a flood of tears, and sobbed and cried like a child."

"Mother!"

"He did, so that it was piteous to see him. But it did him good, for he was better after it. And all the time he never let go my hand, but held it and kissed it. And then he took me by the waist, and kissed me, oh, so often. And all the while his tears were running like the tears of a girl." And Lady Fitzgerald, as she told the story, could not herself refrain from weeping.

"And did he say anything afterwards about this man?"

"Yes; not at first, that is. Of course I asked him who he was as soon as I thought he could bear the question. But he turned away, and merely said that he was a stupid man about some old London business, and that he should have gone to Prendergast. But when, after a while, I pressed him, he said that the man's name was Mollett, and that he had, or pretended to have, some claim upon the city property."

"A claim on the city property! Why, it's not seven hundred a year altogether. If any Mollett could run away with it all, that loss would not affect him like that."

"So I said, Herbert; not exactly in those words, but trying to comfort him. He then put it off by declaring that it was the consciousness of his inability to see any one on business which affected him so grievously."

"It was that he said to me."