“Mrs Ambrose, will you be good enough to tell me when I said anything so preposterous?”
“When I was ill at Bab-us-Sahel. At least, I said ’twas what you thought about me, and you didn’t say no, so I had to think you did! And now you say I’m like the General!”
“If you will be quiet a moment and listen to me—— Now; do you seriously expect me to contradict all the absurd things you say every day? If you do, I will make a point of it, but it will add a good deal to my work—and shorten my life by some years, I imagine. But perhaps that——”
“I don’t—you know I don’t! Y’oughtn’t be so cruel, Ambrose! You know if you were ill I’d be nursing you day and night, and neither eat nor sleep till you were well again.”
“I am sure you would,” with a slight shudder. “Let us hope it won’t be necessary. At any rate, there seems no present likelihood of my inflicting such a task on you. As to my saying you were like the General, I apologise if it was the wrong thing. You are so fond of him, I thought it would rather please you than otherwise. Not like him in face, of course—you know very well I meant nothing of that kind,—but in saying or doing what you have in your mind without thinking a moment how it will affect other people.”
Eveleen sat silent a moment, somewhat dismayed. “Will I really be like the General in that way?” she asked at last in a subdued voice.
“Don’t be afraid I shall say you are. I have learnt my lesson.”
“But I see what you mean. That trick on poor Stewart to-night—I’d have done just the same. And——”
“Pray don’t task your memory.” Richard smothered a colossal yawn. “I haven’t said I mean that, you know.”
“But I know you did. Oh dear, how will I ever make you think differently? I don’t mean to be ill-natured, but when a thing comes to me—— If only there was something I could do to show you—something you wanted very much——”