‘Oh, that isn’t possible, Philip.’
‘We’ll see. Tell him next about this accident, which the doctors say will prevent me from getting on to my feet for some weeks. I hope to prove they are wrong; but send him this warning through you, so that he may not be disappointed.’
‘Would it not be better that your father or your brother should send this message?’
‘Not at all. He would not open a letter from either of them, as he has warned me; and they would not write one, as I know. I hope to set that old misunderstanding between my father and him right some day. Meanwhile, I very much want you to do this for me.’
‘As you please, Philip.’
‘Thanks, Madge, thanks. Then tell him particularly that Wrentham’s affairs are all right.... He’s a good fellow, Wrentham. You remember, I did not like him at first; since I have come to know him better, I have altered my opinion. He is a real good fellow, and made everything in this troublesome business quite smooth and easy for me. Only I wish he hadn’t asked me to try that mare to-day, or that I hadn’t been so unlucky as to agree to do it.’
‘Uncle is very angry about it. He says the mare has been shamefully treated, for she had no vice at all when she left him, and he intends to buy her back.’
‘I hope he won’t.... Now let me see; was there anything else? No; I have told you all that I want to say. You will find an envelope with his full address on the table over there.’
As she was getting the envelope, there was a tap at the door.
‘That’s the doctor, I suppose,’ muttered Philip disappointedly. ‘Why, you can’t have been five minutes here. You won’t be worrying yourself about this, Madge. I’ll be all right in a few days.’