“The companion,” as Mrs. Brande mentally called him, was a younger man, in fact a mere youth of about two and twenty, well set up, squarely built, with good shoulders and a determined mouth and chin. He wore a suit of flannels, a silver watch, with a leather chain, and looked exactly what he was—an idle, poor hanger-on!
Mrs. Brande left him to talk to Honor, and indeed entirely neglected him for his more important kinsman. Her niece was secretly aware of (and resented) her aunt’s preference, and redoubled her efforts to entertain her slighted fellow-traveller. She had a fellow-feeling for him also. Were they not both dependents—both poor relations?
“Well, Captain Waring, so you are coming up to see Shirani?” said Mrs. Brande, with her most gracious air.
“Yes, and I rather want to recall old times out here, and have a nice lazy summer in the hills.”
“Then you have been in India all the winter?” (The inspection of his kit the crafty lady kept to herself.)
“Yes. We came out in October. Had a bit of a shoot in Travancore, and had a couple of months in Calcutta.”
“Then perhaps you came across a Miss Paske, there? Though I don’t suppose she was in the Government House set. Her uncle is a nobody.”
“To be sure. We know Miss Paske, don’t we, Mark? She was very much in the Government House set. All the A.D.C’s adored her. A little bit of a thing, with tow-coloured, fluffy hair, and a nez retroussé.”
“I know nothing about her nose or hair, but she is at Shirani now.”
“You don’t say so! I am delighted to hear it. She is capital fun!”