forgotten to notify him that his wife is sick?”
“I’m afraid we did forget,” said Miss Hayden.
“Munro”—she addressed the guard who had sum-moned Cherry—“weren’t you to bring the Shah when you went to bring the nurse?”
“I was unable to fi nd the Shah, Miss Hayden,” the guard apologized. “I did look around for him a bit, but in view of this lady’s needing the nurse quickly—”
“You did the right thing, Munro,” said Mr. Carewe.
“Go fetch the Shah now, please.” The guard left the library. They all returned their attention to Lady Liddy, who swayed weakly in her chair. Cherry asked if there were some place where she could lie down, but Mr. Carewe said there was not—unless Lady Liddy wished to undertake traveling to his house.
“Oh, no, no,” the young woman said almost in panic.
“Thanks awfully, but I—No, really that’s not necessary.” The old collector did not seem any too eager, either.
Cherry glanced at Martha Logan. To Cherry’s practiced eye, her patient appeared more drawn—and “keeping going on her will power”—than Lady Liddy. “I’d better pay fi rst attention to Mrs. Logan,” Cherry thought.
A
FANTASTIC
VISITOR
95
The Shah walked in, his mackintosh fl apping and hanging bulkily around him, followed by Munro, the guard. When the Shah saw his wife, he gave a cry and ran to her as fast as his portliness would allow.
“My poor dear, not another attack?” He bent over her, his white beard brushing against her face. “My poor darling—I must take you to the doctor at once!”
“We’ve telephoned for the nearest doctor,” Mr.
Carewe said, “not very near, I am afraid—”
“No, no, we can’t wait for the doctor to come here!
Thank you, Mr. Carewe, you are most kind,” the Shah said, and his voice rang out imperiously, “but I will take her to our friends’ doctor, who knows her condition.” He brushed aside reminders that the local physician was on his way. “Thank you, thank you, but no—My dear, can you stand if I support you?” Cherry stepped forward to help, so did their host and both guards, but the Shah insisted he could manage unassisted. He did not even wish his chauffeur to be called.
“We’ve been through this ordeal before,” the Shah said. “I have some medication in the car, to give Lady Liddy temporary relief. Now—up with you—very good!” He lifted the young woman to her feet. “Mr. Carewe, I am extremely sorry this depressing incident has happened in your house and that there is not time to discuss your magnifi cent collection—I owe you a thousand thanks—perhaps another time—” With his arm around his wife, puffi ng from exertion and still talking, the Shah guided her from the library, 96 CHERRY
AMES,
COMPANION
NURSE
through the foyer, and out the main door—quite rapidly. Miss Hayden had to hurry after them with Lady Liddy’s handbag, which she had forgotten.
Their uniformed chauffeur, standing beside the imposing black car, sprang to open the car door for them and get Lady Liddy seated. He looked shocked—
and something else. Cherry was struck by an unsuit-able gleam in his expression, and then by the man himself. The chauffeur was stocky, powerfully built, dark-haired, and moved with vigor, as he jumped into the driver’s seat. Not at all the well-trained chauffeur, who should have helped the Shah in, too. The chauffeur looked more like a man used to working with his hands, or perhaps he was the Shah’s bodyguard.
“Funny,” Cherry thought, “I could swear I’ve seen this man somewhere before.”
“You’ve forgotten your catalogues!” Mr. Carewe called, waving the two booklets.
“My dear Carewe, you must think me ungrateful,” the Shah said, impatiently turning back for the catalogues. “I assure you I shall be profoundly in your debt—You have enriched us. Come and see us. My thanks to all—”
In haste the Shah trotted to his car, in such haste that he turned his ankle
“I’m afraid we did forget,” said Miss Hayden.
“Munro”—she addressed the guard who had sum-moned Cherry—“weren’t you to bring the Shah when you went to bring the nurse?”
“I was unable to fi nd the Shah, Miss Hayden,” the guard apologized. “I did look around for him a bit, but in view of this lady’s needing the nurse quickly—”
“You did the right thing, Munro,” said Mr. Carewe.
“Go fetch the Shah now, please.” The guard left the library. They all returned their attention to Lady Liddy, who swayed weakly in her chair. Cherry asked if there were some place where she could lie down, but Mr. Carewe said there was not—unless Lady Liddy wished to undertake traveling to his house.
“Oh, no, no,” the young woman said almost in panic.
“Thanks awfully, but I—No, really that’s not necessary.” The old collector did not seem any too eager, either.
Cherry glanced at Martha Logan. To Cherry’s practiced eye, her patient appeared more drawn—and “keeping going on her will power”—than Lady Liddy. “I’d better pay fi rst attention to Mrs. Logan,” Cherry thought.
A
FANTASTIC
VISITOR
95
The Shah walked in, his mackintosh fl apping and hanging bulkily around him, followed by Munro, the guard. When the Shah saw his wife, he gave a cry and ran to her as fast as his portliness would allow.
“My poor dear, not another attack?” He bent over her, his white beard brushing against her face. “My poor darling—I must take you to the doctor at once!”
“We’ve telephoned for the nearest doctor,” Mr.
Carewe said, “not very near, I am afraid—”
“No, no, we can’t wait for the doctor to come here!
Thank you, Mr. Carewe, you are most kind,” the Shah said, and his voice rang out imperiously, “but I will take her to our friends’ doctor, who knows her condition.” He brushed aside reminders that the local physician was on his way. “Thank you, thank you, but no—My dear, can you stand if I support you?” Cherry stepped forward to help, so did their host and both guards, but the Shah insisted he could manage unassisted. He did not even wish his chauffeur to be called.
“We’ve been through this ordeal before,” the Shah said. “I have some medication in the car, to give Lady Liddy temporary relief. Now—up with you—very good!” He lifted the young woman to her feet. “Mr. Carewe, I am extremely sorry this depressing incident has happened in your house and that there is not time to discuss your magnifi cent collection—I owe you a thousand thanks—perhaps another time—” With his arm around his wife, puffi ng from exertion and still talking, the Shah guided her from the library, 96 CHERRY
AMES,
COMPANION
NURSE
through the foyer, and out the main door—quite rapidly. Miss Hayden had to hurry after them with Lady Liddy’s handbag, which she had forgotten.
Their uniformed chauffeur, standing beside the imposing black car, sprang to open the car door for them and get Lady Liddy seated. He looked shocked—
and something else. Cherry was struck by an unsuit-able gleam in his expression, and then by the man himself. The chauffeur was stocky, powerfully built, dark-haired, and moved with vigor, as he jumped into the driver’s seat. Not at all the well-trained chauffeur, who should have helped the Shah in, too. The chauffeur looked more like a man used to working with his hands, or perhaps he was the Shah’s bodyguard.
“Funny,” Cherry thought, “I could swear I’ve seen this man somewhere before.”
“You’ve forgotten your catalogues!” Mr. Carewe called, waving the two booklets.
“My dear Carewe, you must think me ungrateful,” the Shah said, impatiently turning back for the catalogues. “I assure you I shall be profoundly in your debt—You have enriched us. Come and see us. My thanks to all—”
In haste the Shah trotted to his car, in such haste that he turned his ankle
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