“She is better to-day,” said Ralph with a sigh. “But all last night we were terribly anxious again, I think it was worrying over the child’s illness.”
“He is very delicate I am afraid,” said Mrs. Hereford.
“Yes, but they are hopeful about him now. Yesterday they thought him dying, and I had to rush out for a clergyman to get him christened.”
“And to go off to your work in the evening I suppose not knowing how things would be when you came back.”
“Yes,” said Ralph. “That was the worst part of all. It was my third appearance as Hamlet, and I all but broke down.”
“I well remember what an agony it used to be to sing in public when Dermot or Molly were dangerously ill,” said Mrs. Hereford. “And talking of Dermot reminds me of what I came to propose this afternoon. He is much stronger but the doctor doesn’t care for him to be in London just yet. I think of taking a house here till the Easter recess, and when Evereld can be moved we think it would be a capital plan if she came to us here instead of in town. I am not going to be defrauded of my visitor by this provoking catastrophe. I have been looking this afternoon at a furnished house which is to let in Lansdowne Crescent, and if all goes well I don’t see why in a fortnight or three weeks’ time Evereld and her baby should not come to us there. I suppose you will have to move on elsewhere with the company?”
“Yes,” said Ralph, “I must leave next Monday, but luckily we shall only be at Bristol so I can run over pretty often.”
“And we shall always be delighted to have you for your Sundays later on,” said Mrs. Hereford, “don’t you think it would be better for Evereld to come to us? She will be rather lonely here.”
“Oh, it would be the best thing in the world for her to be with you,” said Ralph. “But it will be disarranging all your plans I am afraid,—and putting you to so much trouble.”
“Not at all,” said Mrs. Hereford. “Evereld and I shall both be widowed during the week, that is the only drawback; but husbands must work. And in any case I should have had to take Dermot somewhere, for he is the last boy to take care of himself and will do the most mad things if he hasn’t a sister to look after him. I tell him it is becoming such a tax that I shall really have to take to matchmaking and select him a nice capable wife who would see that he wore his great-coat in an east wind, and didn’t always sit in a direct draught. Ah, here is Mr. Macneillie, we must tell him of our plans.”