“Why, there isn’t any trouble. I make my preparations beforehand, and all the rest can be done while you are taking off your boots or washing your hands.”
“But it is keeping you on duty all the time. If you had heard the frigid warnings of the hotel in Baroin as to what we might expect if we got home after six—!” At which Mrs. Hurst’s head went up.
“But I am not the Baroin hotel, Dr. Lane. You must recognize certain differences between Hill Farm and that haughty establishment.” Dr. Lane had laughed at the twinkle in her eye.
“I thank my lucky stars for them every day,” he had responded. “Well, if you are really sure that it does not make things too hard for you, it is certainly delightful to feel that one can carry on with a free conscience. I’m the slave of a time-table in Melbourne: it is sheer rest to know that at Hill Farm time does not seem to exist.”
“Only so far as you wish it to exist,” Mrs. Hurst had answered. “We want you to enjoy yourselves, Robin and I.”
Mrs. Lane had shaken down to captivity with surprising philosophy. Her husband had devoted his first morning to the manufacture of a makeshift crutch, by means of which she could move about a little, giving her a feeling of independence that added greatly to her cheerfulness. She laughed delightedly at her own clumsy efforts at movement, even while the pain made her wince.
“I was always taught by my mother that grace was essential to a woman!” she said. “Dear me, if she could see me now! Robin, you bad child, don’t laugh at the afflicted—you should be full of sympathy.”
“I am; but you would make anyone laugh,” Robin defended herself. She was standing by, ready to help the guest’s progress towards the veranda. “Do lean on me a bit, Mrs. Lane—I know it’s hurting you horribly, and I don’t believe Dr. Lane would approve.”
“Certainly he wouldn’t—but then, men are so fussy, aren’t they?” responded the afflicted one. “And I won’t be more helpless than I have to be. Just be handy in case I stumble. I shall be much more accomplished to-morrow; this third leg of mine isn’t really broken-in yet.” She reached the couch in safety, and collapsed upon it with a sigh of relief.
“There!—I did it! Just lift the old ankle up for me, my dear, and put that horrid implement where I can’t see it—not out of my reach, though. I may feel the need of exercise later on.”