"When did you come up?" asked George quietly, taking his mother's hand and kissing her. She slid past him into the house. Her eyes were moist.
"Last night," the Alderman answered. "Last train. Your mother's idea. All of a sudden. Thought you might be leaving."
"Well, I am," said George. "I have to report at Headquarters at Wimbledon by twelve o'clock. It's rather a good thing you've come. Lois is ill. Oh! Here's my taxi." The parlourmaid had driven up.
"Ill!" exclaimed Mrs. Clayhanger.
"Yes. I've sent for the doctor, and he's sent for the nurse. I'm expecting the nurse every minute."
"
You don't mean to say—" Mrs. Clayhanger began.
George nodded.
"She must have had a shock. I knew what it would be for her. It's all very well, but—" Mrs. Clayhanger again left a sentence unfinished.
"I've sent for Laurencine too," said George. "She also may be here any minute."