"That is to say unable to eat, or sleep—living solely to see her—or if not her—the postman, who carries her priceless letters."
"Ah, you jeer at love! Perhaps it may pay you out one day."
"Perhaps! And what about you, Nancy? Has no smart young tennis champion awakened your interest?"
She burst into a peal of laughter—her first laugh for four whole days.
"No, I've never been in love—or ever will; I haven't a tiny scrap to spare from Daddy; and here he comes to meet us—with poor lonely Togo."
"Well, Nance," he called out, "I've just fixed up a splendid treat for your birthday."
"What is it? Oh, tell me quickly—quickly!"
"We are going down to Holikul for three days for a shoot. There is a big native holiday that draws off our coolies, and I've invited the Corner boys; you shall undertake the commissariat, and play the queen of the party."
"How delightful, Daddy!" cried Nancy; then as she glanced at Mayne, "Oh, poor Captain Mayne!—your jaw has dropped four cubic inches; but I do assure you, it will be all right—when I'm out on a beat, and sit up in a machan, I'm so deadly, deadly, quiet, that you might hear a fly sneeze!"