"Dead!" exclaimed Sinclair. "When did it happen?"
"Six weeks ago, be the blissin' of hiven! Whoop! Won't the angels be havin' a divil of a time wid her now! Hurroosh! That's always the way wid her. The first month she's p'aceful as a suckin' lamb wid its twinklin' tail. Thin she cuts loose, an' be the middle of the second she bates Banagher. She'll jist have hit her gait be now. Begorra but they'll jist be wonderin' what they've got! Whoop! An' now me wife an' childer for me, an' a quiet loife! Hurroosh!"
XXXIX
A REALIZED DREAM
"Dr. Sinclair, I owe you an apology. I have a letter for you which I neglected to deliver. I was so selfish in my gladness yesterday that I forgot that I had this for you."
Sinclair rose from where he sat beside his patient on the broad verandah and received from Mr. MacAllister the letter. It was addressed in the same hand as a little note he had carried in an inner pocket until it was worn to fragments. In spite of his efforts at self-control, the hot blood rushed to his face. The keen grey eyes had a humorous twinkle.
"I shall keep Allister company for a while. When you are ready, I should like to have a few minutes' talk with you."
"Thank you, I'll be back shortly," was all Sinclair could say as he hurried to his room.
It had been a bitter disappointment to him the day before, when the Hailoong's mail was distributed, that there was not so much as a note from Hong-Kong for him. All through that long, lonesome winter he had centred his anticipations around that first mail. Now it had come. There were other letters for him. But there were none from Hong-Kong. It was not till then that he realized how much Jessie MacAllister had been in his thoughts and how blank life would be without her.
But, with the stoicism which lay hidden under the easy good-humour of his surface temperament, he said nothing of his disappointment, even to McLeod, and went about his duties outwardly as cheerful as usual. He did not know how many letters in the same handwriting were lying at Swatow and Amoy and Foochow, awaiting an opportunity of transmission to the blockaded Formosan coast. He did not know of this letter, sent by her father's hand, that it might be safely delivered.