Julius, on his part,
was pitiably moved. He kept away from the bed; he fidgeted to and fro,
looking at this thing and that, without a sparkle of interest in his
eye, yet all with his own peculiar grace.
"You wanted to speak to me," he said. "Do you mind saying what you have
to say and letting me go?"
"I reckoned upon your staying to lunch," said Lefevre.
"I can't!--I can't!... Very sorry, my dear Lefevre, but I really can't!
Forgive what seems my rudeness. It distresses me that at such a time as
this my sensations are so acute. But I cannot help it!--I cannot!"
"You have been in the country,--have you not?" said Lefevre, beginning
with a resolve to get at something.
"I have just come back," said Julius. "My man told me you had called."
"Yes. My mother wrote in a state of great anxiety about you, and asked
me to go and look at you. She said that she and my sister had seen a
good deal of you lately; that you began to look unwell, and then ceased
to appear, and she was afraid you might be ill."
This was put forth as an invitation to Julius to expound not only his
own situation, but also his relations with Lady and Miss Lefevre, but
Julius took no heed of it.
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