I will join your party, paying my own hotel and travelling expenses, and considering myself as engaged in case your wife should need my services.  For that, you can pay me, if you like, some nominal retaining fee—­five pounds or anything.  The money is immaterial to me.  I like to be useful, and I sympathise with nerves; but it may make your wife feel she is really keeping a hold over me if we put the arrangement on a business basis.  As a matter of fact, whatever sum she chooses to pay, I shall hand it over at once to the Bombay Plague Hospital.”

Sir Ivor looked relieved.  “Thank you ever so much!” he said, wringing her hand warmly.  “I thowt you were a brick, and now I know it.  My wife says your face inspires confidence, and your voice sympathy.  She must have you with her.  And you, Dr. Cumberledge?”

“I follow Miss Wade’s lead,” I answered, in my most solemn tone, with an impressive bow.  “I, too, am travelling for instruction and amusement only; and if it would give Lady Meadowcroft a greater sense of security to have a duly qualified practitioner in her suite, I shall be glad on the same terms to swell your party.  I will pay my own way; and I will allow you to name any nominal sum you please for your claim on my medical attendance, if necessary.  I hope and believe, however, that our presence will so far reassure our prospective patient as to make our post in both cases a sinecure.”

Three minutes later Lady Meadowcroft rushed on deck and flung her arms impulsively round Hilda.  “You dear, good girl!” she cried; “how sweet and kind of you!  I really couldn’t have landed if you hadn’t promised to come with us.  And Dr. Cumberledge, too!  So nice and friendly of you both.  But there, it is so much pleasanter to deal with ladies and gentlemen!”

So Hilda won her point; and what was best, won it fairly.

CHAPTER X

THE EPISODE OF THE GUIDE WHO KNEW THE COUNTRY

We toured all round India with the Meadowcrofts; and really the lady who was “so very exclusive” turned out not a bad little thing, when once one had succeeded in breaking through the ring-fence with which she surrounded herself.  She had an endless, quenchless restlessness, it is true; her eyes wandered aimlessly; she never was happy for two minutes together, unless she was surrounded by friends, and was seeing something.  What she saw did not interest her much; certainly her tastes were on the level with those of a very young child.  An odd-looking house, a queerly dressed man, a tree cut into shape to look like a peacock, delighted her far more than the most glorious view of the quaintest old temple.  Still, she must be seeing.  She could no more sit still than a fidgety child or a monkey at the Zoo.  To be up and doing was her nature—­ doing nothing, to be sure; but still, doing it strenuously.