closely for a sign of
satisfaction, but none had come. He had really seemed more interested
in getting St. George downstairs than in being the fourth heir of
Moorlands--indeed, it was very evident that he had no thought for
anybody or anything except St. George.

All this the son might have known could he have sat by his father in the
carryall on this way to Moorlands.

CHAPTER XXIX

The sudden halting of two vehicles close to the horse-block of the
Temple Mansion--one an aristocratic carryall driven by a man in livery,
and the other a dilapidated city hack in charge of a negro in patched
overcoat and whitey-brown hat, the discharge of their inmates, one of
whom was Colonel Talbot Rutter of Moorlands carrying two pillows,
and another a strange young man loaded down with blankets--the slow
disembarking of a gentleman in so wretched a state of health that he
was practically carried up the front steps by his body-servant, and the
subsequent arrival of Dr. Teackle on the double quick--was a sight so
unusual in and around peaceful Kennedy Square that it is not surprising
that all sorts of reports--most of them alarming--reached the club long
before St. George had been comfortably tucked away in bed.

Various versions were afloat: "St. George was back from Wesley with a
touch of chills and fever--" "St. George was back from Wesley with
a load of buckshot in his right arm--" "St. George had broken his
collar-bone riding to hounds--" etc.

Richard Horn was the first to spring to his feet--it was the afternoon
hour and the club was full--and cross the Square on the run, followed by
Clayton, Bowman, and two or three others. These, with one accord, banged
away on the knocker, only to be met by Dr. Teackle, who explained that
there was nothing seriously the matter with Mr. Temple, except an attack
of foolhardiness in coming up the bay when he should have stayed in
bed--but even that should cause his friends no uneasiness, as he was
still as tough as a lightwood knot, and bubbling over with good humor;
all he needed was rest, and that he must have--so please everybody come
to-morrow.

By the next morning the widening of ripples caused by the dropping of
a high-grade invalid into the still pool of Kennedy Square, spread
with such force and persistency that one wavelet overflowed Kate's
dressing-room. Indeed, it came in with Mammy Henny and her coffee.

"Marse George home, honey--Ben done see Todd. Got a mis'ry in h