by the dignity of Madame de Fonblanque's bearing, and could imagine how even so fastidious a person as Mr. Romaine might be fascinated by her.
"He has been asking for you for the last half hour," she said, helping Madame de Fonblanque off with her wraps, and escorting her to the door of Mr. Romaine's library.
Mr. Chessingham came out with a troubled face, and, closing the door behind him, was presented to Madame de Fonblanque.
"Do you think he is dying?" she asked.
"Undoubtedly. And he knows it himself, and is perfectly prepared, but when I ventured to hint as much to him, he told me he thought Carlsbad was the place for him, and he was going there next summer."
A faint smile appeared upon the faces of all three. Majestic death was at hand, but Mr. Romaine had to have his quip with the Destroyer before going upon the great journey.
"And I frankly admit," said Chessingham, worried almost beyond bearing, "that Mr. Romaine has never yet told me what ailed him, and I do not know any more than you do what he is dying of. I suspect, of course—but it may be one of a half dozen things,
