"
Emile nodded. He knew nothing of the operation of tracheotomy, and
though he spoke English well he found it difficult to follow Michael's
soft, thick, County Cork speech.
"She's a grand heap of a girl, isn't she?" continued that gentleman,
regarding Arithelli with kindly eyes. He had all the Celt's love of
romance, and the ingrained reverence of the Irish Catholic for women.
"This isn't the place for girls, at all, at all! And they tell me
she's from the old country. Will I be sending up one of the good
Sisthers to see after her, and put things to rights a bit?"
For the second time that day Emile ungratefully rejected the
ministrations of the Church. He knew that no one else in Spain ever
thought of employing anyone but the religious orders as nurses, but he
preferred to arrange things in his own way and said so.
"Ah, well then!" said Michael amiably, "give her something to drink if
she wants it. That's all. I'll look in again this evening. She'll
have taken a turn then one way or the other. It's a quick thing, this."
Arithelli's ministering angels left in each other's company.
Pages:
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159