There was something in the voice and laugh, that sounded oddly familiar to Mayne, and suddenly leaning forward, he looked round the substantial figure, which was planted directly in front of him. The first glance, gave an impression of a remarkably pretty girl; then with a shock, it dawned upon him, that the pretty girl was Nancy! A Nancy altered almost beyond recognition: beauty the crown of her youth!
It seemed to Mayne that nothing remained of the original flapper, but her merry blue eyes, and sweet, high-pitched voice. Her face was rounded, her complexion—if real,—was dazzling. She was dressed with surpassing elegance, in a gauzy white gown, touched with green; a large hat wreathed with green feathers, half concealed masses of reddish brown hair, a string of splendid pearls encircled her throat, and in her little white gloved hand, she held a gold bag, and a card of the races. Undoubtedly her aunt was a woman of wealth, and did not spare it upon her niece.
The niece was so engaged in laughing and chattering with Tony Lamerton, that Mayne had ample time to collect his wits, and make a prolonged and critical inspection. Nancy carried herself, with an air of graceful confidence, and the manner of one who was aware of her own value; and yet the face wore the same eager, almost childish expression; and a look of innocent mockery danced in the eyes that were raised to Tony Lamerton. Here was a beauty! an assured, and fashionable young woman; she and Tony appeared to be on the best of terms, and he noticed that the Guardsman's attention, was entirely absorbed by his lovely charge.
As the train cleared the suburbs, a clear young voice, said, "How dreadfully hot it is!! may we not have the other window down?" and as the stout gentleman instantly moved to obey her request, Nancy became suddenly aware of Derek Mayne! He was seated in the far corner, and hitherto concealed behind a bulky screen.
His grave dark eyes, encountered her startled glance, with the most penetrating composure. Yes, it certainly was Captain Mayne,—but little changed, beyond the transformation effected by London clothes, a tall hat and a buttonhole. How different to the rough Shikari garb, in which she had been accustomed to see him! When their eyes met in recognition, Nancy was sensible of an overwhelming shock; she gave little outward sign, beyond a quick indrawing of her breath, but her heart had made such a violent plunge, that it seemed about to leap out of her mouth!
Here within three yards of her, was the last man in the world, she expected, or wished to see. A man, she had almost succeeded in turning out of her mind, and to whom for weeks she never cast a thought. The discovery left her nerveless; every morsel of colour deserted her face and lips. The last time they met, was when they had stood beside her father's grave: that was exactly two years and four months ago, and although she had instantly averted her eyes, he was still before them; vividly different to her somewhat faded mental picture—that of a worried restless young man, smoking endless cigarettes, as he paced the terrace at Fairplains.
During this little scene, Tony and the stout gentleman had taken it in turn to struggle with an obstinate window sash, and as the former turned about, his eyes fell upon an old acquaintance. In a voice of hearty welcome, he exclaimed,
"Hullo! Mayne, when did you get back?"
"Three weeks ago."
"And never came near us,—how is that?"