But he's better now.

You'll find him in the smoking-room now, sir." Vandover pushed open the door of the smoking-room quietly.

His father was sitting unoccupied in the huge leather chair before the fireplace.
He was dead, and must have died some considerable time before, as he was already cold.

He could have suffered no pain, hardly a muscle had moved, and his attitude was quite natural, the legs crossed, the right hand holding the morning's paper.

However, as soon as Vandover touched the body it collapsed and slid down into a heap in the depth of the chair, the jaw dropping open, the head rolling sidewise upon his shoulder.
Vandover ran out into the hall, waving his arms, shouting for the servants.