“She was against it, I understand. And she doesn’t wish any one to be with her just now except the nurse and myself.”
“When do you expect? . . .”
“Some time during the night. It’s evidently going to be an easy confinement. I’m just going down to send away my carriage. It’s no use keeping the horse standing half the night in this frost. I’m very fond of horses.”
“Fond of horses—are you?” said Dion, rather vacantly.
“Yes. Are you?”
The low bass voice almost snapped out the question.
“Oh, I dare say. Why not? They’re useful animals. I’ll come down with you if I’m not to go into my wife’s room.”
He followed the doctor down the stairs he had just mounted. When the carriage had been sent away, he asked Doctor Mayson to come into his den for a moment. The pains of labor had come on unexpectedly, but were not exceptionally severe; everything pointed to an easy confinement.
“Your wife is one of the strongest and healthiest women I have ever attended,” Doctor Mayson added; “superb health. It’s a pleasure to see any one like that. I look after so many neurotic women in London. They give themselves up for lost when they are confronted with a perfectly natural crisis. Mrs. Leith is all courage and self-possession.”
“But then why shouldn’t I see her?”