Balmayne was as conscious as she of this fact. He knew also that all the Hindu’s ideas of propriety would be outraged were he left alone with his patient; but for all that he meant to have private speech with Miss Innes.
"Sorry to trouble you, Ayah," he said, "but I must ask you to prepare that hot lotion again for me."
The woman rose, looking malevolently at him, listened to his directions, and slipped out through the arras to her own room, where she kept a small cooking-stove.
He followed, and drew back the hangings, saying quietly, "Too much draught through these curtains. I will close the door." He did so, in spite of the gleam of hate in the old woman’s eyes, returned to Olwen with a smile, and began his unrolling of the bandages about her head.
"Well, Miss Innes," he said, purposely lowering his voice, "it is strange how things settle themselves, as it were, accidentally. A while ago I was wondering how it would be possible to get you away from this place; and behold! You have decided to break your head and made departure inevitable."
She turned quite pale, as he noted with vexation. "Departure inevitable?" she repeated in a startled voice. "Why?"
"You won’t be able to do any work for some time yet. I shall have to order you home, but I thought there was no need to tell the Guyses as much until we came within reasonable distance of the date at which I can allow you to travel."
"And that—when will that be?" she asked faintly.
"Well, let me see. To-day is Saturday. I ought to have these stitches out on Monday or Tuesday. You could travel the day after, or two days after. Yes, you might leave next Wednesday or Thursday."
"But—but I shall be quite well by then," she stammered.
"No. You will have to go quietly for some weeks. No careering on skates or in sleighs." He smiled. She returned no answer, she was most evidently perturbed. "Fresh air," he went on, "is necessary, and the Guyses keep no car. Now that the snow is gone, the only vehicle you could use is that dog-cart, which is most unsuitable."
She laughed a little bitterly. "Do you think my grandfather keeps a car? You don’t seem to understand that I am out to earn my living."
"I am speaking," he said, "in the purest altruism," and he smiled a little ruefully. "Personally I shall be considerably the poorer when you go. But—well, I have sisters of my own, and I know a girl of the right kind when I see her. I tell you, I would not trust a sister of mine in the house with Guyse for a week."