Her passionate hope was that the woman, who had all the unreserve of her class, would not be seized with a sudden desire to confide the nature of her business to her fellow-traveller. She did not want to hear the truth from these lips. If necessary she would have to tell her somehow that she did not wish to go on talking.
"I doubt it very much! I've been about too much and seen too much life to settle down in the country. I may have to, perhaps, later on, when I get older and not so fond of racket. Nothing to hurt--don't you know?--only a night at one of the halls and a good old canter down Regent Street and Oxford Street."
"I never saw anybody riding there," said Isla in a startled voice.
"I don't mean that, of course!" laughed the stranger; "not but what I could do it and make the traffic sit up for me too. When I was in India I had me own horse every mornin' and them grinnin' black men to hold it for me till I was ready to mount. I had a figure then as slim as yours, and they all said I looked better in me habit than in anything else."
"What part of India were you in?" asked Isla, fascinated in spite of herself.
"Pretty well all over, but latterly I was in the north. My husband was in the Fighting Fifth. Ever heard of them?"
"Yes, of course. They were through the Afghan campaign. My father was a soldier, and he used to show us as children their marches on the map."
"Oh, indeed! Then you know something about the service? Any brother in it?"
"I had one," said Isla, and the colour rose hotly in her face.
"I love it. Even when I was a little nipper I always said I'd never marry anybody but a soldier. And I didn't."