The Major murmured the old adage about one man's meat being another man's poison, whereon his lordship snarled and rolled his eyes as he rose to escort the doctor to the door.
"Petticoats quotha?" said he, "Petticoats it shall be."
"In large doses!" nodded Dr. Ponderby, "and repeated often." So saying, he shook the invalid's languid hand, smiled and bustled away.
"Ha!" exclaimed his lordship, "there's a man of stark common sense, Jack."
"Aye, aye," nodded the Major a little impatiently, "but what of Effingham, you say he has left Westerham?"
"He left at mid-day, Jack."
"For good?"
"'Twould seem so, he marched bag and baggage. The rascal fences purely well, I vow."
"Superlatively well," nodded the Major beginning to fill a much smoked clay pipe.
"Man Jack, I thought he had ya' there in carte."