With that she left the room.
She found the captain writing his note, the doctor still with him.
“Vi is awake and asking for her husband,” she said. “Arthur, will you come up and give her as good a report as you can with truth?”
“Certainly, my dear cousin; and it need not be so bad a one as to cause her any special uneasiness.”
“And here is a report from the patient himself,” remarked the captain, smilingly handing a slip of paper to his mother-in-law. “Don’t let her be despondent over the enforced separation, mother, remind her that it is at least a little better than if I were on a voyage that would keep us apart for six months or a year.”
“That should be a comforting reflection,” Elsie said. “But you are suffering, captain!” as a sudden spasm of pain caused an involuntary contraction of his brow.
“Well, yes,” he replied, “but not more than can be easily endured. Make as light of it as you can to my dear wife.”
They broke the news to Violet as gently as possible, treating the matter as of as little consequence as they conscientiously could, then gave her the captain’s note.
It was written in a cheerful, even gay strain, that did much to remove her apprehensions. He spoke of the morning’s accident as something in the nature of a repetition of the mishap that had been the means of bringing them into intimate association for weeks, till they had learned to know and love each other; a consummation for which he at least, would have cause to be grateful all his days.
“So there was a blessing in that love,” he concluded, “and let us hope there will be in this also.”