‘I am afraid we should both have been rather tired,’ she said, smiling, glad to find him in such good spirits.
‘The next dance is a waltz.—Ah!’
He had moved his arm incautiously, and a sharp pang reminded him of his condition. With that little cry he had uttered, Madge felt the pang too.
‘I am going away now,’ she said, trying to speak firmly; ‘I am only doing you harm by staying.’
‘No, no; don’t go, Madge—the touch of your hand has done me more good than all their bandages. I will be quiet. There is something very particular you have to do for me. (What a capital band they have got.)’
‘If you speak again about anything except what you want me to do, I shall leave the room.’
That quieted him, and he kept still for a little.
‘I want you to write to Uncle Shield,’ he said at length tranquilly. ‘If you write to-morrow, it will be in time for the next mail.’
‘What am I to say to him?’
‘Say that I have attended to all his instructions, and have everything ready to start in the Hertford Castle on the sixth, and that I still hope to do so.’