Read A Future Arrived for Free Online Page B

we say in the movement—peace on earth!”
    Charles was on the upper landing of the south wing, smoking a cigarette and gazing at the portrait of an ancestor on the wall.
    â€œWhich Greville is that?” Martin asked as he came up to him.
    â€œThe third earl—also a Charles. Chancellor of the exchequer in William and Mary’s time. Made a fortune out of the job, or so legend has it. I was trying to find a resemblance.”
    â€œSame nose.”
    â€œWeak chin—mean little eyes.”
    â€œWell, all the good Chicago and Milwaukee blood changed that. Nothing like being half American to strengthen the face.”
    â€œI daresay.” He took an awkward puff on the cigarette, not inhaling, and flicked ash on the carpet. “I had a few terrible moments today, Martin. Thought I might become the tenth earl.”
    â€œNot much chance of that, if Dr. Morton is any judge.”
    â€œI hope to God he’s right. He’s a first-rate man, but on the old-fashioned side. I’d like to get Father up to London … to Guy’s Hospital where they have a bit more in the way of equipment than a stethoscope and a pocket watch.”
    â€œI’m sure you can arrange it without much trouble.”
    Charles scowled and puffed furiously. “I thought you knew his nibs better than that. He’s lying in the bed he was born in and it would take death itself to get him out of it.”
    â€œPerhaps I could put in a word on behalf of modern medical science.”
    â€œI wish you would. He has a high respect for your opinions.” He buried the smoldering butt of his cigarette in the moist earth of a potted fern. “I have to get back to the school for a while, but perhaps we can have a few games of snooker later and crack a bottle or two.”
    â€œFine. I’d like that.”
    â€œSo would I.” He touched Martin awkwardly on the shoulder. “I’m glad you’re here. You always make things right, somehow.”
    Martin grinned. “I just bumble through.”
    â€œNo.” His long, gentle face was solemn. “You have life by the throat. I truly envy you, Martin.”
    He watched Charles walk away toward the stairs; tall, long-legged, dressed in baggy tweeds. His dark, curly hair had receded from the high dome of his forehead. He looked older than thirty-nine. Not the thinning hairline and the stooped shoulders, but an attitude, a middle-aged aura of weary acceptance.
    There was an elderly nurse in the earl’s room and she rose from a chair as Martin entered, an admonishing finger pressed to her lips.
    â€œHe’s been given a sedative,” she whispered. “I really don’t think you—”
    â€œI’m not asleep,” came a muffled voice from the bed. “Go downstairs and have your dinner.”
    â€œI’m not to leave the room, Your Lordship. Doctor’s orders.”
    â€œDamn the doctor. This is my house, Sister. Kindly do as you’re told.”
    Martin whispered to her: “I’ll only be a few minutes. Why don’t you wait in the sitting room?”
    Her face reflected her disapproval, but she left.
    â€œWell, now,” Martin said as he drew a chair to the bedside. “What sort of nonsense have you been up to?”
    The earl rolled over and drew himself up onto one elbow. “The old heart hit me for six this morning, Martin. It quite betrayed me.”
    â€œAngina. Not as bad as all that.”
    â€œNo, I suppose not.”
    â€œStill, a heart is a heart. Charles would like to have you at Guy’s—for a complete checkup.”
    â€œWould he? I don’t much like the idea. Bloody bunch of medicos pawing all over me and clucking their tongues. God alone knows what a group of bright young chaps might find abhorrent in a sixty-eight-year-old body. I won’t have it. I refuse to be a candidate for collective predissection.” His head slumped to the pillow. “Oh,