“Of course, a lot of it is trade envy,” said Shafto; “but the Germans, to give them their due, are energetic, thrifty and pushing, and are taking places in the sun all over the world. Have you heard from Mrs. Milward lately?”
“No, not for some weeks; she writes such amusing letters.”
“So I should imagine. She has a wonderfully elastic mind, and says and does the very first thing that comes into her head. Do you remember one day on the Blankshire when, half in joke, she said that we were two young lambs about to be turned out in strange and unknown pastures, and if one of us got into any difficulty the other was bound to help?”
“Yes, I remember perfectly well. It was after Mr. Jones, the missionary, had been giving us a lecture on what he called ‘Pitfalls in the East.’”
“Well, now I warn you that I’m going to be officious and interfering. I have a notion that you are in some difficulty. What Mrs. Milward said in joke I repeat in deadly earnest. If you are in any sort of hole, let me lend a hand.”
“But why should you imagine that I am in any difficulty or, as you call it, ‘a hole’?”
Sophy tried to carry it off gaily, but her eyes fell.
“Because you look so changed and depressed and seem to have lost your spirits. Perhaps, as you have no bodily ailment, there is something on your mind?”
“And who can minister to a mind diseased?” she quoted with a smile. “No, I’m really normal and absolutely sane.”
“I wish you wouldn’t put me off,” he protested; “I know there is something.”