He looked so comical with his ruffled hair and distended eyes, that his wife could not restrain a smile.
“Oh, she will be all right, dear, after a day’s rest!” she said reassuringly. “I will keep her in bed, and not allow her to talk too much. You need not be anxious; Mildred is too healthy to be upset for more than a few hours!”
“But I should try the belladonna! I should certainly try the belladonna!” said the Dean urgently. He shuffled along the passage, but before his wife had time to re-enter the room he was back again, his face alight with inspiration.
“Evelyn, I was thinking! A gold watch and chain—the same as we gave the girls at Christmas.—How would that do, eh? We might present them to her as a small—er,—acknowledgment of—er,—gratitude! What do you think of that? Does it strike you as a good idea?”
“Capital, Austin! Much better than the belladonna!” cried Mrs Faucit.
She patted him approvingly upon the shoulder, and the Dean went off to his study rubbing his hands, and chuckling to himself, like a kindly, innocent child, which indeed he was, despite all the learning which had made him famous.