“Merely that I happened to witness that tender parting at Tilbury—the little girl in the green hat, who was crying her eyes out!”
“She was my cousin,” protested Shafto; “nothing more.”
“Oh, come!” rejoined Hoskins, with a knowing sidelong glance.
“Upon my honour! nothing whatever to me but that.”
“Well, I suppose I’m bound to take your word for it, but it looked uncommonly touching—so like the real thing, and yet merely a case of strong family affection!”
“Yes, that’s all.”
“Well, let us descend and make ourselves presentable for lunch; nothing like first impressions.”
After lunch, when the new-comers had found their places and scattered about, watching the shores of France recede, Shafto approached Mrs. Milward and bowed himself before her.
“Why, Douglas!” she exclaimed, “this is a surprise, a delightful surprise. What on earth are you doing here?”
“Making a voyage to Rangoon.”