He made a feint of joining their hands, put his head back, and shut his eyes with an air and a grace that put Charlotte into an ecstasy, and made even Amy laugh, as she quitted the room, blushing.
'But if it had been your last breath,' said Charlotte, 'you would not have been much the wiser.'
'I would have come to life again in time to enjoy the "coup de theatre". I had some thoughts of trying an overdose of opium; but I thought Dr. Mayerne would have found me out. I tell you, because it is fair I should have the credit; for, Guy, if you knew what she was to me all the winter, you would perceive my superhuman generosity in not receiving you as my greatest enemy.'
'I shall soon cease to be surprised at any superhuman generosity,' said Guy. 'But how thin you are, Charlie; you are a very feather to carry; I had no notion it had been such a severe business.'
'Most uncommon!' said Charles, shaking his head, with a mock solemnity.
'It was the worst of all,' said Mrs. Edmonstone, 'six weeks of constant pain.'
'How very sorry Philip must have been!' exclaimed Guy.
'Philip?' said Charlotte.
'Why, was it not owing to him? Surely, your father told me so. Did not he let you fall on the stairs?'
'My dear father!' exclaimed Charles, laughing; 'every disaster that happens for the next twelvemonth will be imputed to Philip.'
'How was it, then?' said Guy.
'The fact was this,' said Charles; 'it was in the thick of the persecution of you, and I was obliged to let Philip drag me upstairs, because I was in a hurry. He took the opportunity of giving me some impertinent advice which I could not stand. I let go his arm, forgetting what a dependent mortal I am, and down I should assuredly have gone, if he had not caught me, and carried me off, as a fox does a goose, so it was his fault, as one may say, in a moral, though not in a physical sense.'
'Then,' said his mother, 'you do think your illness was owing to that accident?'
'I suppose the damage was brewing, and that the shake brought it into an active state. There's a medical opinion for you!'
'Well, I never knew what you thought of it before,' said Mrs. Edmonstone.
'Why, when I had a condor to pick on Guy's account with Philip, I was not going to pick a crow on my own,' said Charles. 'Oh! is luncheon ready; and you all going? I never see anybody now. I want the story of the shipwreck, though, of course, Ben What's-his-name was the hero, and Sir Guy Morville not a bit of it.'