"Nonsense," said , greatly surprised; "who cares what the fellow said. You are unwell, Barton—decidedly unwell; let me call a coach."
"Unwell! No—not unwell," he said, evidently making an effort to recover his self-possession; "but, to say the truth, I am fatigued—a little over-worked—and perhaps over anxious. You know I have been in chancery, and the winding up of a suit is always a nervous affair. I have felt uncomfortable all this evening; but I am better now. Come, come—shall we go on?"
"No, no. Take my advice, Barton, and go home; you really do need rest! you are looking quite ill. I really do insist on your allowing me to see you home," replied his friend.
I seconded 's advice, the more readily as it was obvious that Barton was not himself disinclined to be persuaded. He left us,
