“Well—and what is the matter now?”
Both stared at me in natural resentment. I could have bitten my tongue out in my vexation at having perpetrated such a banality. I started a stumbling apology.
“Oh, all right, Yelverton,” said Audley, his resentment vanishing, “the fact is we are in a difficulty and I don’t quite know what to do.”
“Can I help you anyhow?” I asked.
“I’m afraid not. But I’ll tell you how things are. We were married in London only four days ago and now I have to go back and Thelma doesn’t like it. I’m an electrical engineer at the head offices in Westminster of Gordon & Austin, the big combine which holds concessions for the supply of electricity to about forty towns in England. I’ve just had a wire calling me to attend a meeting of the directors on Monday morning. It is proposed to promote me to be manager of the power works at Woolwich, which means a big lift that will be a great thing for me in the future.”
“Well, of course, you’ll go,” I said.
“I suppose I must,” he replied. “But according to the papers there’s a big gale in the Channel and only the little boat is crossing from Boulogne. Thelma doesn’t want me to leave her and she is such a bad sailor that if she came with me she would certainly be very seriously ill. The last time she was seasick she collapsed very dangerously. She cannot possibly make the crossing.”
The girl was obviously on the edge of a flood of tears.
“But surely,” I said to her husband, “Mrs. Audley will be all right here for a few days. If you care to trust me so far I shall be delighted to look after her and so, I am sure, will Dr. Feng and Mr. Humphreys. She could be with us. You ought to be back by Wednesday evening.”
“It’s awfully kind of you, Yelverton,” said Audley, “but it rather looks like taking advantage of your good nature.”