"You know nothing about it, Oswald. I have not turned off Dr. Davenal. But you may depend upon one thing--that Mark is a rising man. He will make a greater name than you in the world."
"Very likely. I hope he will make a name. For myself"----
The whistle sounded, and Oswald drew away from the door. Lady Oswald put out her hand, and he shook it warmly. "Shall I see you on my return!"
"Possibly, just a glimpse," he answered. "I'll look out for you when the train comes in. Goodbye."
"But you'll wish me luck, Oswald--although you may be bound in honour to the interests of the enemy and those wretched sheds."
"I wish it you heartily and sincerely; in all ways, Lady Oswald."
His tone was hearty as his words, his clasp sincere. Lady Oswald withdrew her hand, and left him a pleasant, cordial smile as the train puffed on.
"One can't help liking him, Parkins, with all his obstinate contrariness," she cried. "I wish he had been the surgeon! Only think what a name he would have made, had he possessed his brother's talent!"
"So he would, my lady," dutifully acquiesced Parkins.
"What a good thing we are alone! Most likely he contrived it. I declare I don't dislike this," continued Lady Oswald, ranging her eyes round the well-stuffed compartment. "It is almost as private as my own carriage."