‘That’s what Wilfred says,’ cried Peter, all ready as usual for mischief. ‘He says Jill has got to be saved from him, or else––’
‘Jill saved?’ echoed Kit, scornfully. ‘As if she needed any saving from that idiot!’
‘Well, I don’t know,’ objected Wilfred, shaking his head. ‘Girls are so rum. Look at Merton major’s aunt––’
‘She isn’t a girl, she’s an aunt!’ interrupted Christopher.
‘Well, it’s all the same, really,’ declared Wilfred. ‘Merton major says she only married that Indian chap because he bothered so, and because she wanted to be obliging.’
‘And Jill is awfully obliging, you know she is,’ added Peter. ‘You can’t tell what may happen, if that Doctor goes on bothering her.’
‘Well, what are we to do, then?’ Kit condescended to ask. ‘We can’t lock him up, can we?’
‘No,’ admitted Wilfred, ‘we can’t lock him up. But there’s lots of other things we can do. We can see that she’s never left alone with him, for instance. Babs is always with them in the sickroom, that’s one thing. But what happens when he comes out of the sickroom, and Jill walks along the gallery with him and sometimes even down to the front door? That’s dangerous, anyhow.’
‘In future,’ said Peter, solemnly, ‘one of us will always be on the look-out to join them the moment they come out of the sickroom. What else, Will?’
Wilfred reflected a moment. ‘Sometimes,’ he said at last, ‘I’ve known her to be taking a walk in the garden, just as he happens to drive up; and then they stay talking ever so long before they go into the house. Once, he even made her take him round the conservatory. That must never happen again.’