She
passed half-way through the room without even seeming to realize our
presence. Then she stopped suddenly and addressed me.
"I am ordering a pony-cart," she said, "to take Mr. Guest back. He seems
over-fatigued."
"Very thoughtful of you, Lady Dennisford," I answered. "We certainly did
not mean to walk so far when we came out into the park."
A servant entered the room. She gave him some orders, and then, with a
word of excuse to Adele, she came over to my side.
"Hardross," she said softly, "what is the matter with him?"
"General breakdown," I answered; "I do not know of anything else."
"What does the doctor say?"
"The London doctor," I admitted, "gave little hope. Rust cannot discover
that anything much is the matter with him."
"You yourself--what do you think?"
I hesitated. Her fingers gripped my arm.
"I think that he is very ill," I answered.
"Dying?"
"I should not be surprised."
She looked back towards the terrace. Her eyes were full of tears.
"Do what you can for him," she said softly. "He was once a great friend
of mine.
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