The old butler walked the long, dark hallways, carrying a tray of medicines for his charge. The young master was having, yet again, one of his debilitating "fits", and the herbs seemed to help some. The butler took note of the shuttered windows and dark, heavy curtains, blocking the late afternoon sun. He shook his head. "This won't do," he muttered, resolving to discuss the matter with Mr. Collins. The young master liked bright hallways and lots of color, although he wouldn't say it outright.

'Change the draperies, open the shutters (or remove them entirely), have the master's favorite paintings brought over from the Family estate—'  All these would certainly help raise the young master's spirits. 

The butler knocked gently on the antique double doors, the six panels elaborately carved with calla lilies. He had long stopped to question the young master's set ways, to even understand why he would want to settle in a small town, in a completely foreign country! Fortunately, his uncle, Lord Alexander, prevailed on the choice of dwelling. The old mansion's renovation was almost complete, carefully re-designed to fit his master's needs.

Failing to hear the curt 'Enter!' from his charge, the butler knocked one more time before opening the door. "I've brought your medicines, young master."

No answer, which was not unusual given the boy's current state, though the old manservant could not help but feel a bit concerned. The large room was dark, and it took a minute for his eyes to adjust to the dim surroundings. Walking quietly to the four-poster bed, he drew aside the blue, damask curtains. And found himself staring at an empty bed.

The old butler shook his head, muttering to himself—something like 'Not again!', as he took out his phone from his right breast pocket. He still felt uncomfortable using such "modern" tools, especially something this small, but he admitted it was particularly useful in such a time as this. One thing he was sure of: Mr. Collins won't be happy with this news!