“Mercy on us! Is that all?” was her comment as soon as he had given her particulars. “Here you come bursting in upon me regardless of my poor nerves, and I in such pain all night, as I always am. You come rushing in upon me, I say, as if the house was on fire.”
The fact being that Lady Orlebar was as strong as a horse. The only pain she ever suffered from was of that nature, which a daily hour’s walk, combined with a little discrimination at table, would have conjured away like magic. But it was a useful affectation to assume that life was a perpetual martyrdom—a highly efficient buttress to her ascendency.
“And all about what?” she went on. “Merely to tell me that an idle, good-for-nothing boy, who ought to be hard at work earning his living instead of skylarking about the world amusing himself, has sprained his ankle. Really, Francis, I wonder the absurdity of it doesn’t strike even you!”
“Well it’s a pity I said anything about it, I admit,” he answered coldly. “Perhaps I shouldn’t have—but—how would you like a trip abroad, Alicia?”
“What, at this time of year, when you have to sit five a side in a railway compartment, and to make one of a clamouring, struggling rabble, beseeching the hotel-keepers to allow you even a garret at a charge that is rather more than would be required to keep a yacht? No, thank you, not for me.”
“Well, I don’t mind a little of that sort of thing, so I think I shall take a run over myself.”
“Over where—may I ask?”
“Over to Zermatt. I should like to be sure the boy is getting proper care—efficient attendance. An injury of that sort, though insignificant in itself, may become serious if not properly taken care of at the time. And Philip is so reckless.”
The colour deepened in Lady Orlebar’s highly coloured face, and the sneer upon her lips was not pleasant to look upon.
“Did I hear you aright, Sir Francis? It cannot be possible that I understood you to say you purposed to leave me alone here—to leave me all alone in my wretched state of health—while you go rushing off to the Continent to look after this boy, who is surely old enough to take care of himself, and who will probably laugh over you and your fussiness with his friends for your pains.”