...
After a little while he was led away to a couch in the library. The deep-
voiced doctor was on one side of him and Medora Phillips on the other. Soon
he was left alone to recuperate in the dark,--alone, save for one or two
brief, fluttery appearances by Mrs. Phillips herself, who allowed the
coffee to be passed without any supervision on her own part.
On the second of these visitations he found voice to say:
"I'm so sorry for this--and so ashamed. I can't think how it could have
happened."
He _was_ ashamed, of course. He had broken up an entertainment pretty
completely! Servants running about for him when they had enough to do for
the company at large! All the smooth conventions of dinner-giving violently
brushed the wrong way! He had fallen by the roadside, a young fellow who
had rather prided himself on his health and vigor. Pitiful! He was glad to
lie in the dark with his eyes shut tight, tight.
If he had been fifteen or twenty years older he might have taken it all
rather more lightly. Basil Randolph, now----But Randolph had not been
invited, though his sister and her husband were of the company.
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