“Then I’ll have to offer it to Lisle,” she smiled. “But I’ll walk with you to the lodge; and then you had better go in and keep quiet until you get back your nerve.”
When she left Gladwyne she went on to Nasmyth’s, where she waited until the doctor on leaving told her that he was perfectly satisfied with the prospect for the Canadian’s recovery. It would, he said, be merely a question of lying still for a considerable time. Millicent was conscious of a relief which puzzled her by its intensity as she heard the news, but she asked Nasmyth to send somebody to inform Gladwyne.
“I think he’s desperately anxious and feeling the thing very badly,” she concluded.
“Then he could have come over to inquire, as you have done,” Nasmyth answered. “In my opinion, he deserves to be uncomfortable.”
“Why are you so hard on him?”
The man’s face grew grim.
“I’ve had to help Irvine with Lisle, for one thing. We were satisfied that his injuries were not caused by the bay rolling on him; he seems to have escaped from that with a few bad bruises. The worst of the accident might have been avoided if Clarence had had nerve enough.”
“But you couldn’t blame him very greatly for losing his head—he had no warning, scarcely a moment to think. It was so sudden.”
“The result’s the same,” retorted Nasmyth. “Lisle has to pay. But to please you I’ll send Clarence word that Irvine’s not anxious about him.”