My cousin's
name, Dr. Cumberledge, was Maltby--Captain Richard Maltby."
"Indeed," I answered, with an icy stare. "I cannot pretend to the
pleasure of having met him."
Be exclusive to the exclusive, and they burn to know you. From that
moment forth Lady Meadowcroft pestered us with her endeavours to scrape
acquaintance. Instead of trying how far she could place her chair from
us, she set it down as near us as politeness permitted. She entered into
conversation whenever an opening afforded itself, and we two stood off
haughtily. She even ventured to question me about our relation to one
another: "Miss Wade is your cousin, I suppose?" she suggested.
"Oh, dear, no," I answered, with a glassy smile. "We are not connected
in any way."
"But you are travelling together!"
"Merely as you and I are travelling together--fellow-passengers on the
same steamer."
"Still, you have met before."
"Yes, certainly. Miss Wade was a nurse at St. Nathaniel's, in London,
where I was one of the house doctors. When I came on board at Cape Town,
after some months in South Africa, I found she was going by the same
steamer to India." Which was literally true.
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