Part 48 (1/2)

George took her upon his arm, with an air that seemed to intimate he should not trust her to any one again, and they went back to their hotel, Mrs. Verrall saying she should call upon them in half an hour's time.

Maria was looking pale; quite white. George, in much concern, untied her bonnet-strings. ”Maria, I fear you _are_ hurt!”

”Indeed I am not--as I believe,” she answered. ”Why do you think so?”

”Because you are not looking well.”

”I was startled at the time; frightened. I shall get over it directly, George.”

”I think you had better see a doctor. I suppose there's a decent one to be found in the town.”

”Oh no!” returned Maria, with much emphasis, in her surprise. ”See a doctor because I slipped down a little? Why, George, that would be foolis.h.!.+ I have often jumped from a higher height than that. Do you remember the old wall at the Rectory? We children were for ever jumping from it.”

”That was one time, and this is another, Mrs. George G.o.dolphin,” said he, significantly.

Maria laughed. ”Only fancy the absurdity, George! Were a doctor called in, his first question would be, 'Where are you hurt, madame?' 'Not anywhere, monsieur,' would be my reply. 'Then what do you want with me?'

he would say, and how foolish I should look!”

George laughed too, and resigned the point. ”You are the better judge, of course, Maria. Margery,” he continued--for Margery, at that moment, entered the room--”your mistress has had a fall.”

”A fall!” uttered Margery, in her abrupt way, as she turned to regard Maria.

”It could not be called a fall, Margery,” said Maria, slightingly. ”I slipped off some earth and stones. I did not quite fall.”

”Are you hurt, ma'am?”

”It did not hurt me at all. It only shook me.”

”Nasty things, those slips are sometimes!” resumed Margery. ”I have known pretty good illnesses grow out of 'em.”

George did not like the remark. He deemed it thoughtless of Margery to make it in the presence of his wife, under the circ.u.mstances. ”You must croak, or it would not be you, Margery,” said he, in a vexed tone.

It a little put up Margery. ”I can tell you what, Master George,” cried she; ”your own mother was in her bed for eight weeks, through nothing on earth but slipping down two stairs. I say those shakes are ticklish things--when one is not in a condition to bear them. Ma'am, you must just take my advice, and lie down on that sofa, and not get off it for the rest of the day. There's not a doctor in the land as knows anything, but would say the same.”

Margery was peremptory; George joined her in being peremptory also; and Maria, with much laughter and protestation, was fain to let them place her on the sofa. ”Just as if I were ill, or delicate!” she grumbled.

”And pray, ma'am, what do you call yourself but delicate? You are not one of the strong ones,” cried Margery, as she left the room for a shawl.

George drew his wife's face to his in an impulse of affection, and kissed it. ”Don't pay any attention to Margery's croaking, my dearest,”

he fondly said. ”But she is quite right in recommending you to lie still. It will rest you.”

”I am afraid I shall go to sleep, if I am condemned to lie here,” said Maria.

”The best thing you can do,” returned George. ”Catch me trusting you to any one's care again!”

In a short time Mrs. Verrall came in, and told George that her husband was waiting for him outside. George went out, and Mrs. Verrall sat down by Maria.

”It is Margery's doings, Margery's and George's,” said Maria, as if she would apologize for being found on the sofa, covered up like an invalid.

”They made me lie down.”

”Are you happy?” Mrs. Verrall somewhat abruptly asked.