he walked into the house,
and was welcomed by Dora with shrieks of ecstatic joy.

He said Dermot was better, but he looked worn, and had the indefinable
expression of pain which made me sure that something had gone wrong,
and presently I found out that the bite in the shoulder was a very bad
business, still causing much suffering, but that the most serious
matter was, that a kick in the side had renewed the damage left by the
old Alma bullet, and that great care would be needed all the winter.
But Harold seemed more reluctant to open his mouth than ever, and only,
by most diligent pumping, did Mrs. Alison get out of him what doctors
they had called in, and whether they had used all the recipes for
wounds and bruises that she had entrusted to me to be sent, and which
had for the most part remained in my blotting-book.

The next morning, to my grief and distress, he did not come to my room,
but I found he had been up and out long before it was light, and he
made his appearance at eleven o'clock, saying he had promised to go and
give Lord Erymanth an account of his nephew, and wanted me to come with
him "to do the talking, or he should never stand it." If I did not
object to the dog-cart and Daniel O'Rourke immediately, we should be
there by luncheon time. I objected to nothing that Harry drove, but
all the way to Erymanth not ten words passed, and those were matters of
necessity. I had come to the perception that when he did not want to
speak it was better to let him take his own time.

Lord Erymanth was anxious, not only about Dermot's health, and his
sister's strength and spirits, but he wanted to hear what Harold
thought of the place and of the tone of the country; and, after our
meal, when he grew more confidential, he elicited short plain answers
full of information in short compass, and not very palatable. The
estate was "not going on well." "Did Harold think well of the agent?"
"He had been spoilt." "How?" "By calls for supplies." "Were the
people attached to Dermot?" "To a certain degree." "Would it be safe
for him to live there?" "He ought."

Lord Erymanth entirely assented to this, and we found that he had all
along held that his sister had been in error for not having remained at
Killy Marey, and brought up her son to his duties as a landlord,
whatever the danger; though of course she, poor thing, could hardly be
expected to see it in that light. He evidently viewed this absenteeism
as the cause