“Do you ’ear what your father is saying to you, Bobby?” she cried, shrilly. “Answer ’im at once or I’ll send you out of the room! Will you ’ave some beef?” But still there was no reply. “My lady! I think that he is ill,” said Miss Wynward in alarm. “Ill! Rubbish!” exclaimed the Baroness. Being so coarse-fibred and robust a woman herself, she never had any sympathy with delicacy or illness, and generally declared all invalids to be humbugs, shamming in order to attract the more attention. She now jumped up from her seat, and going round to her son’s chair, shook him violently by the shoulder. “’Ere, wake up! what are you about?” she exclaimed, “if you don’t sit up at once and answer your father’s question, I’ll lay my stick about your back!” She was going to put her argument into effect, when Harriet prevented her. “Stop! stop! Madame Gobelli!” she exclaimed; “can’t you see, he has fainted!” It was really true! Bobby had fainted dead away in his chair, where he lay white as a sheet, with closed eyes, and limp body. Miss Wynward flew to her pupil’s assistance. “Poor dear boy! I was sure he was not well directly he entered the house,” she said. “Not well!” replied the Baroness, “nonsense! what should ail ’im? ’Is father was one of the strongest men on God’s earth! He never ’ad a day’s illness in ’is life. ’Ow should the boy, a great ’ulking fellow like ’im, ’ave got ill?” She spoke roughly, but there was a tremor in her voice as she uttered the words, and she looked at Bobby as though she were afraid of him. But as he gradually revived under Miss Wynward’s treatment, she approached nearer, and said with some tenderness in her tones, “Well! Bobby, lad, and ’ow do you feel now?” “Better, Mamma, thank you! only my head keeps going round!” “Had I not better help him up to his bed, my lady?” asked Miss Wynward. “O! yes! but I ’ope ’e isn’t going to make a fool of ’imself like this again, for I don’t ’old with boys fainting like hysterical gals!” “I couldn’t help it, Mamma!” said Bobby faintly. “O! yes! you could, if you ’ad any pluck! You never saw _me_ faint. Nor Gustave either! It’s all ’abit! Trundle ’im off to bed, Miss Wynward. The sooner ’e’s there, the better!” “And I may give him a little stimulant,” suggested Miss Wynward timidly, recalling the scene of the evening before, “a little champagne or brandy and water--I think he requires it, my lady!” “O! yes! Coddle ’im to your ’eart’s content, only don’t let me ’ear of it! I ’ate a fuss! Good-night, Bobby! Mind you’re well by to-morrow morning!” And she brushed the lad’s cheek with her bristly chin. “Good-night!” replied Bobby, “good-night to all!” as he was supported from the room on the arm of Miss Wynward. The Baroness did not make any further remarks concerning her son, but Harriet noticed that her appetite disappeared with him, and declaring that she had tired herself too much to eat, she sat unoccupied and almost silent for the remainder of the meal. CHAPTER XI.