“Good morning, mademoiselle; how are you after your long journey of yesterday? I heard you were rather indisposed.”
“I did feel unwell this morning, but am much better now. I am extremely sorry about Mr. Anderson, who, I am afraid, will be very much disfigured by last night’s accident.”
“I hope it will not prove very serious.”
“It may not; but it will be very disagreeable, as he is obliged to see so many people.”
“No matter; all wounds are honourable in time of war, excepting, perhaps, a pair of black eyes.”
“But what has become of your brave compagnon de voyage, P. M.? Has he recovered from the effects of his fright?”
“All I know is, that he was not at breakfast this morning, and he told everybody last evening that he would not, for any amount of money, again accompany you, mademoiselle, or even her Majesty, through such danger as he incurred yesterday.” Every one who knew him laughed at his bravery, particularly Miss Nightingale, who, turning to Mr. Bracebridge, said—“Monsieur Soyer and myself are going to the General Hospital, and thence to the Sanatorium, where I wish you to be kind enough to meet us.”
“About what time?” inquired Mr. Bracebridge.
“Two o’clock, as at that hour Mr. Anderson and Dr. Sutherland will be there about the ventilation.”
We then started. The roads were very muddy. I observed to Miss Nightingale that she ought to have had boots made on purpose for such rough walking, to which, she assented, saying, “I will do so, Monsieur Soyer.”