“I’m sure you are a good fairy, who will make allowances and forgive this precipitate descent on you; and now without any more figures of speech—can you give me your answer?”
I looked up at him and met his anxious dark eyes. The “yes” was trembling on my lips when Michael our big butler flung back the curtain or purdah between the drawing-room and dining-room and said:
“The captain sending salaam, dining at club.” Glancing interrogatively at my companion he added: “This gentleman dining with missy?”
“No, no,” protested my late caller, “I have only a few minutes to spare. Shall we go into the veranda?” was his bold suggestion.
I rose without a word and led the way.
“I am taking silence for consent,” he said, and there, in the scented darkness, he drew me into his arms and kissed me.
Sitting hand in hand in the dim light we talked, and how the time flew! A few minutes became half an hour. I was surprisingly silent for me, thrilled with the dawn of first love and the vibrant attraction of my companion’s voice.
“I may return before long,” he said. “All depends on my father; under any circumstances you will be home in February, and then we will be married. Meanwhile, I will leave you in charge of Kipper.”
“Yes, if you like to put it in that way,” I answered gaily. “And about our engagement?”
“It is ‘done finish,’ as they say out here.”