“Everything will be dated from that now!” exclaimed her aunt, irritably. “And is he laid up in Shirani?”
“Yes; Mrs. Langrishe has taken him in to nurse.”
“Mrs. Langrishe! She never did such a thing before in all her life,” cried Mrs. Brande, “and besides, she has no room.”
“Oh, she has contrived it; she has given him Major Langrishe’s dressing-room, and sent him to the club.”
“Well, I never!” gasped her listener.
“You see,” continued Mrs. Paul, laughing at her hostess’s face, “the force of your good example.”
“Force of example! I call it the force of being a baronet. And have you seen anything of Mark Jervis?”
“Yes; he and some of the Scorpions. Captain Scrope and Mr. Rawson are laying out a paper-chase course. I am sure he will be here presently,” added Mrs. Sladen. “He is on this ball committee, and extremely energetic. Here he is,” as Jervis and two officers cantered up to the verandah somewhat splashed.
“Welcome back,” he said, dismounting. “No, no, thanks; I will not come in, at any rate further than the mat. We have been through bogs and rivers, and are in a filthy state.”
“Never mind; it’s only the verandah! Do come in,” said Mrs. Brande, recklessly.