"Impossible, sir! No, no!"
"Yes, yes, John--I'm going to get up."
"But, sir--"
"This very moment! My clothes, John, my clothes!"
"Indeed, sir, I--"
"John Peterby," said Barnabas, scowling blackly, "you will oblige me
with my garments this instant,--obey me, sir!"
But hereupon, while Barnabas scowled and Peterby hesitated, puckered
of brow yet joyful of eye, there came the sound of wheels on the
drive below and the slam of a coach door, whereat Peterby crossed to
the window and, glancing out, heaved a sigh of relief.
"Who is it?" demanded Barnabas, his scowl blacker than ever.
"Her Grace has returned, sir."
"Very good, John! Present my compliments and sa'y I will wait upon
her as soon as I'm dressed."
But hardly had Peterby left the room with this message, than the
door opened again and her Grace of Camberhurst appeared, who,
catching sight of Barnabas sitting up shock-headed among his pillows,
uttered a little, glad cry and hurried to him.
"Why, Barnabas!" she exclaimed, "oh, Barnabas!" and with the words
stooped, quick and sudden, yet in the most matter-of-fact manner in
the world, and kissed him lightly on the brow.
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