“Yes,” I answered shortly, “he is my brother.”
“Your brother,” he repeated incredulously.
“Is it so very astonishing?”
“Um—er——” he stammered, “I had no idea that Ronnie Lingard had a sister out here.”
“I only arrived six weeks ago—I came with Mrs. Hayes-Billington.”
“Oh, did you?”
“I wanted Ronnie to come here for even a week, but he is so busy and so hard-worked he says it is impossible.”
“Oh yes—impossible—quite, quite impossible,” he muttered, as if talking to himself, and then he got up rather suddenly and took an abrupt departure.
There was certainly something strange about Captain Vesey. He had forgotten his gloves and he had not touched his tea. The two young men who had brought him exchanged glances and grins and one of them exclaimed: “Sunstroke!”
“I hope you don’t mind him, Mrs. Hayes-Billington,” he added apologetically, “but Vesey is the most eccentric old bird.”