“Some day next week,” said Mr. Goddard. “Suppose we say——”
Miss Blow collapsed again, and showed every sign of more tears.
“Sooner, if you like,” said Mr. Goddard hurriedly.
“At once, then,” said Miss Blow, rallying; “at once; this very moment.”
Mr. Goddard looked at his watch. It was three o’clock. It would take him at least two hours to drive to Clonmore. He could do very little there that evening.
“At once,” repeated Miss Blow; “this very instant.”
Mr. Goddard gave in. He believed that he was going to make a fool of himself, but saw no way of escape. Miss Blow’s vigorous manner of crying convinced him that she was quite capable of sitting in his dining-room and continuing to cry until he set out in search of Dr. O’Grady’s body.
“Will you excuse me,” he said, “while I go upstairs and put on my uniform?”
Miss Blow nodded and smiled again. The thought of a uniform comforted her. A man can hardly fail in his duty when he puts on a uniform for the express purpose of performing it. Mr. Goddard took courage from her smile.
“I shall tell my housekeeper,” he said, “to bring you a cup of tea. I am sure you must need it. You can drink it while you are waiting. I shall have my horse harnessed and drive you back with me to Clonmore.”