"His lordship will wait upon you to the door," said she, designating her
son.

The eminent physician effaced himself from her ladyship's attention. It
was his boast that he could take a hint when one was given him; and so
he could, provided it were broad enough, as in the present instance.

He gathered up his hat and gold-headed cane--the unfailing insignia of
his order--and was gone, swiftly and silently.

Rotherby closed the door after him, and returned slowly, head bowed, to
the window where his mother was still seated. They looked at each other
gravely for a long moment.

"This makes matters easier for you," she said at length.

"Much easier. It does not matter now how far his complicity may be
betrayed by his papers. I am glad, madam, to see you so far recovered
from your weakness."

She shivered, as much perhaps at his tone as at the recollections he
evoked. "You are very indifferent, Charles," said she.

He looked at her steadily, then slightly shrugged. "What need to wear
a mask? Bah! Did he ever give me cause to feel for him?" he asked.
"Mother, if one day I have a son of my own, I shall see to it that he
loves me."

"You will be hard put to it, with your nature, Charles," she told him
critically. Then she rose. "Will you go to him with me?" she asked.

He made as if to acquiesce, then halted. "No," he said, and there was
repugnance in his tone and face. "Not--not now."

There came a knocking at the door, rapid, insistent. Grateful for the
interruption, Rotherby went to open.

Mr. Green staggered forward with swollen eyes, his face inflamed with
rage, and with something else that was not quite apparent to Rotherby.

"My lord!" he cried in a loud, angry voice.

Rotherby caught his wrist and checked him. "Sh! sir," he said gravely.
"Not here." And he pushed him out again, her ladyship following them.

It was in the gallery--above the hall, in which the servants still stood
idly about--that Mr. Green spattered out his wrathful tale of what had
befallen in the library.

Rotherby shook him as if he had been a rat. "You cursed fool!" he cried.
"You left him there--at the desk?"

"What help had I?" demanded Green with spirit. "My eyes were on fire. I
couldn't see, and the pain of them made me helpless."

"Then why did ye not send word to me at once, you fool?"

"Because I was concerned only to stop my eyes from burning," answered
Mr. Green, in a towering rage at finding reproof where he had co