“Take him with us?” said the little lady, slowly.
“Yes,” cried the doctor, excitedly; “take him with us, Mary—my darling wife that is to be. The chaplaincy of our settlement is vacant. Did you ever hear the like?”
Little Miss Rosebury could only stare at the excited doctor in a troubled way, for she understood him now, though her lips refused to speak.
“Yes, and I am one of the first to learn the news. I can work it, I feel sure, if he’ll come. Then only think; lovely climate, glorious botanical collecting trips for him! The land, too, whence Solomon’s ships brought gold, and apes, and peacocks. Ophir, Mary, Ophir! Arthur will be delighted.”
“Indeed!” said that lady wonderingly.
“Not a doubt about it, my dear. My own discovery. All live together! Happiness itself.”
“But Arthur is delicate,” she faltered. “The station is unhealthy.”
“Am not I there? Do I not understand your brother thoroughly? Oh! my dear Mary, do not raise obstacles in the way. It is fate. I know it is, in the shape of our Political Resident Harley. He came over with me, and goes back in the same boat. He has had telegrams from the station.”
“You—you take away my breath, doctor,” panted the little lady. “I must have time to think. Oh! no, no, no; it is impossible. Arthur would never consent to go.”
“If you will promise to be my wife, Mary, I’ll make him go!” cried the doctor, excitedly.