"And what are you doing down here at this extraordinary hour?" he asked of his goddaughter with what dignity was left to him.
"Eating and drinking, as you can see," was her flippant reply. Then, as though conscious that she was perhaps not treating Colonel Crayfield quite with the respect that was his due, she added primly: "I often get up very early and go for a ramble"; she hesitated, and continued with diffidence, "would you care to come for a walk instead of going to bed again?"
"Well, I can't come as I am; but if you will wait till I've had my tea and dressed——"
"Of course I'll wait! I'll leave the side door open and you'll find me outside."
Later, when he joined her, his self-respect as Commissioner of Rassih restored, he said: "Indian life would suit you, since you are so fond of early rising. In India I am nearly always out soon after daybreak."
Stella sighed. "Oh! India—how I should love to go there!"
"Really? What about the heat and the exile and the insects?"—and he added playfully—"not to speak of snakes and tigers!"
"I'm not afraid of anything!" bragged Stella, and with the elimination of grandmamma this was true enough. "If it comes to exile, what could be worse than life at The Chestnuts—where nothing ever happens, and nothing will ever happen!"
Now they were out of the garden, out on a common that was ablaze with gorse—the spongy turf was silvered with dew, the air fragrant and fresh; birds' voices, the distant lowing of cattle, echoed in the sweet stillness.