“What’s the matter now?” inquired the General.
“Why, I’ve just remembered that I promised to say nothing about it. I say, don’t you repeat it, General, nor you either, Laing.”
The General laughed.
“Well,” said Sir Roger, “he oughtn’t to have been such a fool as to tell me. He knows I never remember to keep things dark. It’s not my fault.”
A girl came out of the hotel and strolled up to where the group was. She was dark, slight, and rather below middle height; her complexion at this moment was a trifle sallow and her eyes listless, but it seemed rather as though she had dressed her face into a tragic cast, the set of the features being naturally mirthful. She acknowledged the men’s salutations and sat down with a sigh.
“Not on to-day?” asked Sir Roger, waving his cigar toward the lawn-tennis courts.
“No,” said Miss Bellairs.
“Are you seedy, Dolly?” inquired the General.
“No,” said Miss Bellairs.
Mr. Laing fixed his eye-glass and surveyed the young lady.