“Oh, well, if I am only to be regarded in the light of an object-lesson——”
“You will accept the position with resignation, and be thankful. Oh, Dick, don’t let us tease one another any more! Can’t you understand that I am glad and proud to have the chance of helping you a little in your work? It was my father’s work too, you know.”
“Yes, I know. You might come a little closer, Georgie. You don’t seem to understand yet that I make my doctor pay for the privilege of attending me.”
“Come, Mr Stratford, you mustn’t tire Sir Dugald. I am sure he has done quite enough work this morning.”
Stratford looked at Lady Haigh rather guiltily, almost as though he felt that he ought to tell her something, but could not make up his mind to do it.
“I didn’t want him to go on so long, Lady Haigh, but he insisted on looking through the journal. Of course he wanted to be posted up in everything before we start to-morrow, in view of reaching Rahmat-Ullah so soon. I’m afraid you will find that—that he has been doing a little too much.”
Lady Haigh went into the room with a scolding on her lips, but it died away when her eyes fell upon Sir Dugald, sitting at the table with his head leaning on his hand. As she entered, he pushed aside wearily the papers before him and turned to her.
“It’s no use, Elma; I am done for—a worn-out, useless wreck. I always hoped to die in harness, but now I am laid on the shelf. It is all right until I get to business, but I cannot grasp things. My brain refuses to work.”
This confirmation of fears which had already occurred to herself and Georgia struck a chill to Lady Haigh’s heart, but she dared not hold out any hope of improvement by way of comfort. She came forward silently, and standing at her husband’s side, laid her hand rather timidly on his shoulder.
“It’s all up, Elma,” he said again. “The very ad valorem duties in the treaty—over which I spent so much time before I was ill—stump me now. We lose everything—position, occupation, influence, even reputation.”