Good heavens! suppose it had been _my_
loss!"
"It has fallen doubly on me," said Lady Lydiard; "and I am certainly
not rich enough to take it _that_ easy. The money was destined to a
charitable purpose; and I have felt it my duty to pay it again."
Felix rose and approached his aunt's chair with faltering steps, as
became a suffering man. He took Lady Lydiard's hand and kissed it with
enthusiastic admiration.
"You excellent creature!" he said. "You may not think it, but you
reconcile me to human nature. How generous! how noble! I think I'll go
to bed again, Mr. Troy, if you really don't want any more of me. My head
feels giddy and my legs tremble under me. It doesn't matter; I shall
feel easier when Alfred has taken me out of my clothes again. God bless
you, my dear aunt! I never felt so proud of being related to you as I
do to-day. Good-morning Mr. Troy! Don't forget the abstract of the case;
and don't trouble yourself to see me to the door. I dare say I shan't
tumble downstairs; and, if I do, there's the porter in the hall to pick
me up again. Enviable porter! as fat as butter and as idle as a pig! _Au
revoir! au revoir!_" He kissed his hand, and drifted feebly out of
the room. Sweetsir one might say, in a state of eclipse; but still the
serviceable Sweetsir, who was never consulted in vain by the fortunate
people privileged to call him friend!
"Is he really ill, do you think?" Mr. Troy asked.
"My nephew has turned fifty," Lady Lydiard answered, "and he persists in
living as if he was a young man.
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