"Pretty well," he answered, as he warmed his thin white hands over the blaze. "I have the old pain here a bit"--touching his chest. "It will go off by-and-by, I dare say."
Miss Diana had her eyes riveted on him. The extreme delicacy of his countenance--its lines of fading health--struck upon her greatly. Was he looking worse? or was it that her absence from home for three weeks had caused her to notice it more than she had done when seeing him daily? She asked herself the question, and could not decide.
"Don't I? I have not felt well for this week or two. I think the walking to Blackstone and back is too much for me."
"You must have a pony," she continued after a pause.
"Ah! that would be a help to me," he said, his countenance brightening. "I might get on better with what I have to do there. Mr. Chattaway grumbles, and grumbles, but I declare, Aunt Diana, that I do my best. The walk there seems to take away all my energy, and, by the time I sit down, I am unfit for work."
Miss Diana went nearer to him, and spoke in lower tones. "What was the reason that you disobeyed Mr. Chattaway with regard to coming in?"
"I did not do it intentionally," he replied. "The time slipped on, and it got late without my noticing it. I think I told you so last night, Aunt Diana."
"Very well. It must not occur again," she said, peremptorily and significantly. "If you are locked out in future, I shall not interfere."
Mr. Chattaway came in, with a discontented gesture and a blue face. He was none the better for his sleepless night, and the torment which had caused it. Rupert drew away from the fire, leaving the field clear for him: as a schoolboy does at the entrance of his master.
"Don't let us have this trouble repeated," he roughly said to Rupert. "As soon as you have breakfasted, make the best of your way to Blackstone: and don't lag on the road."
"Rupert's not going to Blackstone to-day," said Miss Diana.
Mr. Chattaway turned upon her: no very pleasant expression on his countenance. "What's that for?"
"I shall keep him at home for a week, and have him nursed. After that, I dare say he'll be stronger, and can attend better to his duty in all ways."
Mr. Chattaway could willingly have braved Miss Diana, if he had only dared. But he did not dare. He strode to the breakfast-table and took his seat, leaving those who liked to follow him.