"Only a couple of women who cook for him and look after the house. He had an old servant for about forty years, but I think he's pensioned him off. Of course, it really isn't very safe as things are. Carter must be over eighty, and the Red Lodge is a devilish lonely place, shut in behind a high wall amongst a lot of trees. I don't wonder he feels a bit jumpy."
"But is he quite serious about wanting an assistant?" demanded Gray. "At present it sounds as if he were in more need of a bull-dog."
Sir George laughed. "It's a genuine enough offer," he said. "He confided to me that he'd just undertaken some very important researches, and that it was absolutely necessary he should have a first-class man to help him. I thought of you at once. I said all the complimentary things I could about your work, and I added, as a sort of little extra inducement, that you'd won the inter-hospital heavyweight boxing competition for two years in succession."
Gray coloured modestly. "It was awfully good of you, Sir George," he replied.
"Not at all," was the answer. "In my opinion he'll be very lucky if he gets you. I told him I'd look you up and see how you felt about it, and that if you liked the idea I'd let him know some time to-day."
"I shall be ready to go directly I can get away from the hospital," declared Gray.
Sir George Onslow threw away the stump of his cigarette and rose to his feet.
"I don't think there will be any difficulty about that. I'll speak to the chairman personally, and if Carter wants you at once we can easily find someone to carry on until the secretary comes back," He glanced at his watch. "I must be running along now. I've got to be at the nursing home by twelve-thirty."
After expressing his gratitude once more, Gray accompanied his visitor down to the hall, where he remained standing on the steps until the car drove away. He was just turning back toward the staircase when the porter, who was engaged with the telephone, thrust his head out of the box.
"Gen'leman wants to speak to you, sir—a Mister Ashton."