Bentley there.
'I have told Emily everything you said. She is very grateful, and begs of
me to thank you for your kind intentions. But I am afraid you must excuse
her absence from dinner. I really don't think she is in a fit state to come
down; she couldn't possibly take part in the conversation.'
'But why? I hope she isn't ill? Had we better send for the doctor?'
'Oh no; she'll be all right in the morning. She has been crying. She
suffers from depression of spirits. She is, I assure you, all right,' said
Mrs. Bentley, replying to Hubert's alarmed and questioning face. 'I assure
you there is no need for you to reproach yourself. Dinner is ready.' She
took his arm, and they went into the dining-room.
No further mention was made of Mr. Burnett, of money matters, or of the
young lady up-stairs; and with considerable tact Mrs. Bentley introduced
the subject of literature, alluding gracefully to Hubert's position as a
dramatist.
'Your play, _Divorce_, is now running at the Queen's Theatre?'
No; I'm sorry to say it was taken out of the bills last Saturday. Saturday
night was the last performance.'
'That was not a long run. And the papers spoke so favourably of it.'
'It is a play that only appeals to the few.
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