"I know my way! I'll go to old Jaloo, and tell him to get ready the lemonade and cake. Oh, I must have some cake," and she bustled up the steps, and disappeared among the orange and apricot trees.
"No, thank you," said Verona, looking at Salwey's still extended hand; "I prefer to wait, like the train—ten minutes for refreshments."
"You mean to say you won't honour my poor abode! I'd like to show you my photographs of home, and some books, and odd things I've picked up in the district."
"I'll come another time, but I'm a little tired. I don't think I could face your hill."
"I must say you look completely played out; you ought to have gone to Aunt Lizzie. I say, I shall row you back."
As he spoke he stepped into the boat, closely attended by "Chum," and motioned her to the place recently occupied by her lazy sister.
"But what about Pussy?" she asked with a faint smile, as she arranged the cushions and leant back with a sense of well-earned repose.
"Oh, Pussy is all right. She and old Jaloo are tremendous pals. She was often here—with Nicky."
Verona inclined her head.
"Miss Chandos, this is a lucky chance!" he resumed. "I wanted to see you alone."