It is just as I feared. The trouble is in my right knee, so stiff that I can scarcely bend it, and exceedingly painful. Cecilia calls it 'a touch of rheumatism.'
'Indeed,' I said, 'it's a pretty secure grasp, not a touch; were I what is called a danseuse, my livelihood would be gone, but mercifully I don't need to dance.'
Cecilia laughed; she thinks nothing of any illness but neuralgia.
'We must leave this place very soon,' said I, 'and return to Tunbridge Wells; life here is fit only for cannibals.'
In the morning it was impossible for me to come down to breakfast, but with great difficulty I dragged myself downstairs about eleven. I felt it my duty to the son of an old friend to seek an opportunity for quietly speaking my mind to Sir Archibald about Miss Pomeroy, so decided to do it at once. I found them together, as usual, in the coffee-room. The girl was looking pale; she is beginning to be afraid that her arts are in vain.
Sir Archibald was standing beside her, looking very much bored. She made some excuse, and left the room soon after I had come in.
'I hope you are not the worse of your adventure in the motor, Mrs. MacGill,' Sir Archibald began.
'Thank you,' said I, sitting down close to him. 'I am, a good deal. My right knee is excessively painful, and I have a very strange buzzing in the head.'
'Ah, you are not accustomed to the motor; it's all habit.'