“He is not in any danger?” said Hilda.
“Well, you know, he’s so anxious about himself.”
“I should never forgive myself if anything happened!” Spoleto cried.
“Oh, I should, you know, I should,” Reggie murmured thoughtfully. They did not attend to him.
“But you are not to blame.” Hilda was interested in Spoleto. “You are not to blame for anything.”
“You say that!” Spoleto cried. “Thank you, my cousin,” and he kissed her hand.
“Oh, but you are absurd,” said Hilda, and flushed faintly and turned away.
Spoleto made a gesture of despair. “Quite, quite,” Reggie said. “So we’d better have breakfast.” During that meal he might have heard, if he had listened, the full history of the emotions of the Comte de Spoleto. He escaped from them to visit his patient.
The Prince was much cheered by a night of sleep, still excessively interested in his injuries, but now hopeful about them. He gave great honour to Reggie’s treatment of the case. “My dear sir, I must consider it providential that you were on board. Oh, but certainly providential.”
“Well, sir, the affair might have taken a different turn without me,” Reggie admitted modestly.