"Dear! dear!" she said, rather coolly. "I am very sorry to hear it. When and how did it occur?"
McKay explained.
"Poor dear!" This was the first word of sympathy she had spoken, and even now she made no offer to go to him.
"The doctors think there is no great danger if—"
"Danger!" This seemed to rouse her. "I trust not."
"No danger," went on McKay, "if only he can be properly nursed. They were glad to hear of the arrival of the yacht, and think he ought to be moved on board."
"Oh, of course this will be the best place for him. When can he be brought? I suppose I ought to go to him. Will it be possible to get a conveyance to the front?"
"Nothing but an ambulance, I fear. And you know there is no road."
"Upon my word I hardly know what to say."
"We could manage a saddle-horse for you, I daresay."