CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
1
MILLY'S illness was discussed at every tea-table in Seabourne, and proved a grateful topic in the stiff little club as well. If the Ogdens did nothing else, they certainly provided food for comment. Joan's Short Hair, the Colonel's Death, Mrs. Ogden's Popish Tendencies and now Milly's Consumption were hailed in turn with discreet enthusiasm.
Major Boyle, the doleful politician, killed Milly off at least a dozen times that spring.
"Family's riddled with it!" he remarked lugubriously. "I happen to know for a fact that three of the mother's brothers died of it."
General Brooke laughed asthmatically. "That's queer," he chuckled, "for she only had one!"
Major Boyle sighed as though this in itself were a tragedy.
"Oh, really, only one? Then it must have been a brother and two cousins—yes, that was it, two cousins—riddled with it!"
The little bank manager fidgeted in his chair, his mouth opened and shut impatiently; if only they would let him get a word in edgeways. At last he could contain himself no longer.
"Miss Joan told me——" he begun.