Carefully on the look-out for any discoveries which might enlighten
her, Fanny noticed with ever-increasing interest the effect which the
harmless Dane seemed to produce on my lord and the doctor.
Every morning, after breakfast, Lord Harry presented himself in the
bedroom. Every morning, his courteous interest in his guest expressed
itself mechanically in the same form of words:
"Mr. Oxbye, how do you find yourself to-day?"
Sometimes the answer would be: "Gracious lord, I am suffering pain."
Sometimes it was: "Dear and admirable patron, I feel as if I might get
well again." On either occasion, Lord Harry listened without looking at
Mr. Oxbye--said he was sorry to hear a bad account or glad to hear a
good account, without looking at Mr. Oxbye--made a remark on the
weather, and took his leave, without looking at Mr. Oxbye. Nothing
could be more plain than that his polite inquiries (once a day) were
unwillingly made, and that it was always a relief to him to get out of
the room. So strongly was Fanny's curiosity excited by this strange
behaviour, that she ventured one day to speak to her master.
"I am afraid, my lord, you are not hopeful of Mr. Oxeye's recovering?"
"Mind your own business," was the savage answer that she received.
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