The others were happy, why should he not have his share of enjoyment?
As a matter of fact, however, Helen and Dr. Ramsay were not enjoying themselves; at least she was not, for he had met her assertion that the one wish of her life ("since my husband's death seven years ago," being interpolated with the usual note of resigned reverence in her voice) had been to be a hospital nurse, with a dubious shake of the head.
"I wouldn't if I were you," he said slowly. "I rather doubt your being fit for it. One requires a lot of stamina."
She stared at him almost haughtily. "But I am very strong, I assure you," she replied, with a smile of great tolerance, "I daresay I look pale--for the Cornish coast; but, oh! I am very strong!"
"Physically, perhaps." His Scotch accent gave the qualification great precision.
"Then, mentally----" she almost gasped.
"Mentally, no," he replied quite calmly.
"Excuse me," she remarked, "but I really do not think you know me well enough."
"Do I not?" he remarked, his brown eyes smiling into hers; "you forget that I am a doctor, and, Mrs. Tressilian, your nervous system is at the present moment--mind you, it's no blame--in absolutely unstable equilibrium."
"Unstable equilibrium! Really, Dr. Ramsay"