“As if it mattered!” I retorted with scorn.
“Not now, no doubt, but later—much later—you must promise not to throw my bald head and grey hairs in my face.”
I burst out laughing.
“Captain Falkland—no, I mean Brian—how can you talk such nonsense!”
“I suppose because I’m so happy; if the poor pater were all right I’d not have a wish left! By the way, about Ronnie, you must influence him, my little girl. I hear of high play, racing bets and wild-cat speculations. Try to get hold of the purse strings, and do your level best to cut him loose from that repulsive ruffian Balthasar.”
“I’ll try, but lately Ronnie is so changed; not the least like himself.”
“Then be a good fairy, and turn him into a reformed prince of brothers. I’m giving you one commission—another and more important one is, to take great care of your precious self, my little sweetheart; be happy, write to me by every mail, and think of me every hour.”
“You may be sure I shall do that.”
“I often wondered if you ever cast me a thought after I came to India. Certainly you never answered my letter.”
“I cast you many thoughts,” I admitted, “and often wished that we might meet. As for your letter, this is the first I have heard of it.”