Eola made her escape at last, and when her brother came in to lunch she told him the story of Mrs. Hulver's trouble. He was not much interested, nor had he much sympathy with the foolish young man. He expressed a hope that the worthy woman would not see too much of her son. His second visit had followed very closely on his first. "After all we mustn't forget that Mrs. Hulver, for all her excellent ways, is a Eurasian. She possesses the family loyalty that marks the race, and will never turn her back on any relative while she has a shelter to offer, no matter what the character of the individual may be." "I am quite sure," responded Eola warmly, "that she will not allow us to be worried or out of pocket, however worried she may be herself." "All the same there is a strain of the 'soft-hearted old fool' about her that must not be disregarded; and she must be protected against herself if necessary. If this boy turns up too often I shall have something to say to him. Did you see the precious young idiot himself?" "She insisted on it." "Was he quiet?" "As quiet as a bad go of fever and a black eye could make him." "I think I'll have a look at him myself, and if he is fit for it I shall give him a bit of a lecture." "She hasn't spared him herself," remarked Eola. "He is poulticed with beef and bread and admonished with the wise sayings of the three Williams continuously. I wonder how he can take it all so quietly." "Perhaps I had better defer my lecture if that is so. Any way I will go and see him. He may as well be aware of the fact that his presence here is known to us both." He went to the door of Mrs. Hulver's sitting-room. It was open and revealed much the same sight as had met Eola's eyes, except that Mrs. Hulver was in the midst of dressing the damaged eye. She held a large slice of raw meat in her hand which she was carefully adjusting over his temple and cheek, covering his eye altogether. She turned her head at the sound of the master's footstep. "Is that you, sir? I'll come directly. This is nearly finished. I'm changing the beef on young William's eye. Miss Wenaston told you the trouble I am in over this budmash of a boy?" As she talked she adjusted the wrappings and tucked the shawl round the patient's shoulders. He was lying on his side. At the sound of the Principal's voice he stirred uneasily. "Now, you keep quiet, William, or you'll fidget the plasters out of place. You have got to be patient. There's a time for fighting for soldiers, and there's a time for keeping quiet, and that time is now." She came towards Dr. Wenaston, who had stopped on the threshold and continued, addressing herself to him instead of her son. "As William--that was my first--used to say: 'There's a season for everything. Even the bamboo must be cut when the moon is waxing or it will be good for nothing.'"