But at this very moment someone came to tell Ger it was time to get ready, and in the fuss and excitement of seeing him off, his grannie forgot all about the Ram Corps and its angelic attributes.
It was her day. Guest after guest arrived, and she was pretty tired by the time she had given tea to some five and twenty people.
The General never came in at all till the last guest had gone. Then he sought his wife, and standing on the hearth-rug with his back to the fire he told her that Major Murray had been to see him, and had recounted Ger's visit of the morning, and the result of his investigations.
Mrs Grantly, which was unusual, never interrupted once.
"So you can understand," the General concluded, "I didn't feel like facing a lot of people."
"I shall write at once to Margie," Mrs Grantly cried breathlessly, "and tell her she is a fool."
"I wouldn't do that," the General said gently; "poor Margie, she has a good deal on her shoulders."
"All the same—do you remember that that unfortunate child has been punished—punished because he was considered idle and obstinate over his lessons . . . punished . . . little Ger—friendly, jolly little Ger . . . I can't bear it," and Mrs Grantly burst into tears.
The General looked very much as though he would like to cry too. "It's an unfortunate business," he said huskily, "but you see, none of us have ever had any eye trouble, and the other children have all such good sight . . . it never occurred to me . . . I must confess . . . of course it can be put right very easily; you're to take him to the oculist to-morrow; I've telephoned and made the appointment."
Mrs Grantly dried her eyes.