“Sure there’s a steamer coming down the river!” Running out on the verandah dressed for the evening ride, Eveleen stood still to listen. “Ambrose, d’ye hear?”
“A steamer to-day? Nonsense!” cried Richard, joining her hastily. “No, by Jove, it is!”
“What will it be, I wonder?” in much excitement. “Oh, send the horses back, and let us go down to the strand.”
Other people joined them as they neared the path down the low cliff on which the Residency stood, and waited on the landing-stage. The Asteroid came round the bend with the light of the setting sun full on her.
“Well, now; if it’s not the Resident!” cried Eveleen, as a figure on the paddle-box took off his hat and waved it to the group in the shadows. “He must be invalided. See how ill he looks!”
“As if you could tell at this distance!” said Richard, in his superior way; but as the steamer drew round to the landing-stage, he had to acknowledge that Colonel Bayard did look very ill.
“That attack of fever we heard of will likely have been worse than we knew. He must go to bed at once.” Eveleen spoke with all the determination of Mrs Gibbons herself, and Colonel Bayard, hurrying to shake hands with them as soon as he set foot on shore, heard her.
“What have I done, Mrs Ambrose, that I am to be sent to bed like a naughty child? I know there are plenty of people who have the worst possible opinion of me, but I didn’t expect to find them here.”
“Sure it’s for your own sake,” she said seriously. “You don’t look fit to be up.”
“Morally I may not be, but physically I assure you I am. But I have had a heavy time this hot weather, and no doubt it’s told upon me. And I have had a bit of a blow just lately.”