“Pray are you aware that we are picnicing below, with half Shirani?”
“Yes, I know; but not another starvation picnic I hope?”
“And yet,” ignoring his ill-timed jest, “you have never come to see us, and we leave to-morrow!”
He looked down to avoid her questioning eyes, and made no answer, beyond a faint, half-strangled sigh.
“At least we are still friends,” she urged, swallowing something in her throat.
“Yes—always; but I thought I had better remain away. The Shirani folk would take me for a ghost, and I might upset their nerves. What is the latest station news?”
“Our latest news is, that Mrs. Sladen is to go home at Christmas. Miss Clover is engaged to Captain Burne, and Miss Paske to Sir Gloster Sandilands,” she answered stiffly.
“Poor Toby! I suppose my former acquaintances believe me to be in England—if they ever think of me at all?”
She hesitated, twisted her ring round and round, and then said—
“Your friends,” with emphasis, “know that you are out in this country, looking after your father. How is he?”