"Hallo!" said she. "You seem to be in a mess here."
"Please sit down," said I, removing a sporting rifle and bundle of cotton-waste from the best arm-chair.
"What is the matter?" she asked, arching her brows as she surveyed the general disorder.
"We're packing," said I.
"It may surprise you to hear it," said she, taking the seat, "but so I had guessed. What is it? Preparing for the pheasants, or for Quarter Day?"
"Neither," I answered. "I'm going to South America, that's all. … That will do for the present, Jephson. You may get Miss Denistoun a cup of tea."
"Sudden?" she asked, when Jephson had withdrawn.
"Well," I admitted, "I booked my passage only two days ago, but I've had the notion in my mind for some time."
"Alligators, is it? or climbing, this time? Or just general exploring?"
"You may call it exploring, though I may have a shy at the Andes on the way. These fits come upon me at intervals, Constantia, as you know, ever since you determined to be unkind."