"No one been, Nell?" he asked, with a little foreboding.
"No one."
"Ah, well, to be sure the boat must have arrived late. They may not have got back to town till to-day."
The next day passed in the same way, and the next day. The fourth day Nelly went out and did her Christmas shopping. She held her head high now, in a spirited way which hurt her father to see, for her face was very pale. That evening she put on a little scarlet silk dinner-jacket, in which the General declared that she looked every inch a soldier's daughter. But the brilliant colour only made her look paler by contrast.
On the fifth day the General, instead of going to his club, went to see Mrs. Rooke and fortunately found her at home. He hardly knew the little woman, but she was a friend of Nell's and had been good to her. Besides, he was so bent upon getting to the root of the business about Langrishe and Nell that he felt no embarrassment on the subject of his errand.
"My dear," he said, bowing over Mrs. Rooke's pretty hand—he had a charming way with women—"I have come without my daughter knowing. Perhaps she would never forgive me if she knew. Tell me: what is the mystery about your brother? Why has he not been to see us?"
"I am so glad you came to ask me, Sir Denis," Mrs. Rooke replied. "I was just about to go to Nelly. Godfrey is so obstinate. The doctors cannot say yet if he is going to be a cripple or not. His sword-arm was almost slashed through. Jerome Rooke, my brother-in-law, says it will be all right. On the other hand, Sir Simon Gresham shakes his head over it. Godfrey is to see him again in a few weeks' time. He is waiting for his verdict before he speaks to Nelly. My opinion is that if the verdict is adverse he will never speak at all."
"Why, God bless my soul, then!" shouted the General in his most thunderous voice, "he must speak before! he must speak before! Everything must be settled. They shall hear Sir Simon's verdict together."
Those people had been right who had called Sir Denis unworldly. Mrs. Rooke blinked her pretty eyes before his outburst.
"You know, of course, Sir Denis, that his profession will be closed to him in case his arm doesn't get well. Godfrey has always felt that he had too little to offer your daughter. But now—it will be a maimed life if the worst happens. Both my mother and I appreciated Godfrey's reasons. We could not say that he was not right. Poor Godfrey! I don't know what he will do if he loses his profession. You know he was devoted to his work."