“I think I may say she has—particularly since she believes Sally has forgot the accomplishment.”
“While all the time Sally’s naughty papa has been keeping it alive in secret—eh, Sir Harry? Ah then, I know you, you see—and you and Sally and I will have many a fine gallop yet. I’ve set up a little Arab I’d like you to see——”
“With all my heart—but not at present, I fear. Now I must reluctantly bid——”
“Ah, but I must make known to you my kind friend Mrs Gibbons here, who would be Chief Medical Officer if ladies could be doctors. She read in your face that you had sickness on board while you were still far down the strand.”
“Ah, my dear lady!” there was no badinage now in the General’s voice—“we don’t alarm our gentle friends with these sad matters, but we have lost fifty-four men from cholera since leaving Bombay. That was what detained me just now—giving orders for pitching a camp of isolation immediately on the point yonder. I can do nothing till my poor fellows are transferred there.”
“Then Mrs Gibbons is the person you want!” triumphantly. “She has already reckoned up in her mind how many beds she can put her finger on in an hour.”
The General shot a keen look at Mrs Gibbons’s composed face. “By Jove, ma’am, you’re the woman for me! With your permission, I’ll send over my own surgeon to consult with you immediately. Ladies, your servant!”
“Oh, Sir Harry!” cried Eveleen desperately as he turned away, “you’ll be letting Brian—my brother—come to tiffin, or dinner, at any rate?”
“Lieutenant Delany shall certainly pay his respects to Mrs Ambrose and her hostess this evening”—again Brian’s eye sought his sister’s and closed in a wink—“if his duties will allow. During the day he will be continuously occupied.”
“If I might suggest, sir——” they heard Richard’s voice as Sir Henry stumbled off resolutely through the sand to the waiting horses. They heard also the General’s answer.