"I'd leave him for good and all, if I dared; but I fear he might keep
you."

Now, the secret was, that for the last three days Sir Francis had been
desperately ill, obliged to keep his bed, and could see nobody, his life
depending upon quiet. Such was the report, or something equivalent to
it, which had gone in to Lord Headthelot, or rather, to the official
office, for that renowned chief was himself out of town; it had also
been delivered to all callers at Sir Francis Levison's house; the
royal truth being that Sir Francis was as well as you or I, but, from
something that had transpired touching one of his numerous debts,
did not dare to show himself. That morning the matter had been
arranged--patched up for a time.

"My stars, Levison!" began Mr. Meredith, who was a whipper-in of the
ministry, "what a row there is about you! Why, you look as well as ever
you were."

"A great deal better to-day," coughed Sir Francis.

"To think that you should have chosen the present moment for skulking!
Here have I been dancing attendance at your door, day after day, in a
state of incipient fever, enough to put me into a real one, and could
neither get admitted nor a letter taken up. I should have blown the
house up to-day and got in amidst the flying debris. By the way, are you
and my lady _two_ just now?"

"Two?" growled Sir Francis.

"She was stepping into her carriage yesterday when they turned me from
the door, and I made inquiry of her. Her ladyship's answer was, that she
knew nothing either of Francis or his illness."

"Her ladyship is subject to flights of distemper," chafed Sir Francis.
"What desperate need have you of me, just now? Headthelot's away and
there's nothing doing."

"Nothing doing up here; a deal too much doing somewhere else. Attley's
seat's in the market."

"Well?"

"And you ought to have been down there about it three or four days ago.
Of course you must step into it."

"Of course I shan't," returned Sir Francis. "To represent West Lynne
will not suit me."

"Not suit you? West Lynne! Why, of all places, it is most suitable. It's
close to your own property."

"If you call ten miles close. I shall not put up for West Lynne,
Meredith."

"Headthelot came up this morning," said Mr. Meredith.

The information somewhat aroused Sir Francis. "Headthelot? What brings
him back?"

"You. I tell you, Levison, there's a hot row. Headthelot expected you
would be at West Lynne days past, and he has come