"Homesickness and indigestion and general confusion," he answered. "You don't look as though you'll cry."
"I'm much more likely to smash Eve," said Millie. "Don't you think I might ask Miss Platt to have her moved back a little this afternoon? It's so awful feeling that she's watching everything you do."
"There's nowhere very much to have her moved back to," said the Doctor. "She's back as far as she will go now. You're very young," he added quite irrelevantly.
"I'm not," said Millie. "I'm twenty-five."
"You don't look that. I don't want to be inquisitive, but—did you know anything about these people before you came here?"
"No," said Millie. "No more than one knows from a first impression. Why? You look concerned about me. Have I made a mistake?"
The doctor laughed. "Not if you have a sense of humour and plenty of determination. The last four ladies lacked both those qualities. Mind you, I'm devoted to the family. Their father, poor old Joe, was one of my greatest friends."
"Why do you pity him?" asked Millie quickly.
"Because he was one of those most unfortunate of human beings—a man who had one great ambition in life, worked for it all his days, realized it before he died and found it dust in the mouth. The one thing he wanted from life was money. He was a poor man all his days until the War—then he made a corner in rum and made so much money he didn't know what to do with himself. The confusion and excitement of it all was too much for him and he died of apoplexy.
"Only the day before he died he said to me: 'Tom, I've put my money on the wrong horse. I've been a fool all my life.'"