mood to resent neglect on the part of McKeith.

She went to the veranda railing, whence she had a view of the
Bachelors' Quarters, and was able to see for herself that Tommy's
report had been correct. She called to the child:

'Go at once, Tommy, and tell the master that I am waiting.'

Tommy flew off immediately on his small, sturdy legs, and Lady Bridget
watched the scene at the Bachelors' Quarters. McKeith had dismounted,
and with one foot on the edge of the veranda, was facing Mrs Hensor,
who looked fresh and comely in a clean blouse and bright-coloured
skirt. The two seemed to have a good deal to say to each other, though
Lady Bridget heard only the voices, not the words. Her Irish temper
rose at the thought that Mrs Hensor might be giving him her version of
the Wombo episode. She felt glad that the black-boy and his gin were
comfortably sleeping off the effect of their wounds, and of the
plentiful meals supplied them in the hide-house, and thus were not in
evidence. When McKeith spoke, it was in a dictatorial, angry tone--that
of the incensed master. Clearly, however, Mrs Hensor was not the object
of his wrath. Lady Bridget saw little Tommy run excitedly up to deliver
her message, and almost cried out to him to keep away from the horses'
heels, to which he went perilously near. As things happened, the beast
lashed out at him, and Tommy had a very narrow escape of being badly
kicked. Lady Bridget heard Mrs Hensor shriek and saw her husband drag
the child to the veranda and examine him anxiously, Mrs Hensor bending
with him. Then McKeith lifted up Tommy and kissed and patted him almost
as if he had been the boy's father. It always gave Bridget a queer
little spasm of regret to see Colin's obvious affection for the little
fellow. He was fond of children, specially so of this one. Lady Bridget
knew, though he had never said so to her, that he was disappointed at
there being no apparent prospect of her having a child.

And she--with her avidity for any new sort of sensation, although she
scoffed at the joy of maternity--felt secretly inclined sometimes to
gird at fate for having so far denied her this experience. She herself
liked Tommy in her contradictory, whimsical fashion; but now, the fuss
over, the boy--who clearly was not in the least hurt--made her very
cross, and she became positively furious at seeing McKeith delay yet
further to unstrap his valise and get out a toy he must have bought for
Tommy in Tunumb