When they had alighted, Rupert greeted his cousin with the utmost kindness, and bade him welcome to Vissarion.
“I see,” he said, “you have met Teuta. Now you may congratulate me, if you wish.”
Mr. Melton made a long rodomontade about her beauty, but presently, stumbling about in his speech, said something regarding it being unlucky to appear in grave-clothes. Rupert laughed, and clapped him on the shoulder as he answered:
“That pattern of frock is likely to become a national dress for loyal women of the Blue Mountains. When you know something of what that dress means to us all at present you will understand. In the meantime, take it that there is not a soul in the nation that does not love it and honour her for wearing it.” To which the cad replied:
“Oh, indeed! I thought it was some preparation for a fancy-dress ball.” Rupert’s comment on this ill-natured speech was (for him) quite grumpily given:
“I should not advise you to think such things whilst you are in this part of the world, Ernest. They bury men here for much less.”
The cad seemed struck with something—either what Rupert had said or his manner of saying it—for he was silent for several seconds before he spoke.
“I’m very tired with that long journey, Rupert. Would you and Mrs. Sent Leger mind if I go to my own room and turn in? My man can ask for a cup of tea and a sandwich for me.”
RUPERT’S JOURNAL.
August 10, 1907.