It was not until late that afternoon that O’Hara arrived, and he was conducted, after a brief conversation with Diana and her father, to my lord’s room, where Miss Betty received him with her cheery smile and jerky curtsey.

“You’ll not excite Mr. Carr?” she said, but was interrupted by my lord’s voice from within, weak but very gay.

“Come in, Miles, and never listen to Miss Betty! She is a tyrant and denies me my wig!”

O’Hara laughed in answer to Miss Betty’s quizzical smile, and strode over to the bed. He gripped my lord’s thin hand and frowned down at him with an assumption of anger.

“Young good-for-nought! Could ye find nought better to do than to smash yourself up and well-nigh drive your man crazy with fright?”

“Oh, pshaw! Did you find Jim?”