I went downstairs to look for Colonel Colquhoun, and found him just about to start for barracks.
"I am sorry to say your wife is very ill," I said. "She has an attack of acute bronchitis, and it may mean pneumonia as well; I have not examined her chest. She must have fires in her room, and a bronchitis kettle at once. Don't let the temperature get below 70° till I see her again. Her maid can manage for a few hours, I suppose? But you had better telegraph for a nurse. One should be here before night."
"What a damned nuisance these women are," Colquhoun answered cheerfully.
"There's always something the matter with them!"
I returned between five and six in the evening, walked in, and not seeing anybody about, went up to Evadne's sitting room. The door leading into the bedroom was open, and I entered. She was alone, and had propped herself up in bed with pillows. The difficulty of breathing had become greater, and she found relief in that attitude. She looked at me with eyes unnaturally large and solemn as I entered, and it was a full moment before she recognised me. The fires had not been lighted in either of the rooms, and she was evidently much worse.
"Why haven't these fires been lighted?" I demanded.
"This is only October," she answered, jesting, "and we don't begin fires till November."
I rang the bell emphatically.
"Do not trouble yourself, doctor," she remonstrated gently. "What does it matter?"
I went out into the sitting room to meet the maid as she entered.
"Why haven't these fires been lighted?" I asked again.