’A kiss of yours is good enough for any man,’ said Toby. So of course I kissed him, as I always have, and at that moment matron caught us! Somehow, my luck’s dead out. However, I felt as I was not on duty I could hug Generals if I chose, and, anyway, I was to be shot at dawn on Friday, so nothing mattered.
So the Visiting Committee came home to lunch with me and stayed to tea, which it hadn’t meant to do, and then stayed on for dinner, but it couldn’t stop the night, or else it would have. It was delightful to see Toby. When he went he said,—
’Darling, you don’t look too frightfully well, are you being taken care of properly? You ought not to be going to that beastly hospital when they’ve got influenza. You’re not strong enough. Do you ever faint now?’
But I don’t think he heard, for he went down to the car and drove away.
Ross wired to say that he was delayed till Tuesday, and then came on Saturday after all. I was in the hall wondering why I felt so tired and whether I’d bother to change for dinner, when my brother let himself in at the front door, followed by Brown.
’Why, Ross, this is a surprise. I didn’t expect you to-day!’
He had, however, somehow grown deaf during his absence, and merely said,—
’Good-evening, Margaret. See to the luggage, will you, Brown,’ and walked upstairs, followed by all the dogs.
’Not in London, miss,’ and he handed me the evening paper.
Obviously a storm was brewing, so I decided that it was worth while to dress. I put on my best and latest frock. At dinner I was sparkling, and told my brother all about the hospital in my most vivid style. Somehow he didn’t think any of it the least amusing. I asked him then if he wasn’t sorry to miss Toby, and he informed me that he had had lunch with him at the club in London.
Ross was, however, quite polite and civil, more so than he’d been for years, but as to rowing me as I had thought, oh, dear, no; he quite obviously was not interested in me at all, the whole subject of the hospital bored him stiff.
I thought I’d see if the date would warm the atmosphere.
’Ross, we’ve had such an excitement while you were away. We’ve found the date in the roof, and it’s 1570.’
After that I gave it up. If 1570 wouldn’t melt an iceberg, nothing would, so we adjourned to the hall for coffee, and now there sits on one side of the fire, surrounded by ice and snow fields, something which was once my twin, while I sit on the other writing my novel, trying to get thawed, pretending I don’t mind a bit.