Cuthbert Courtland left for Melbourne on the 28th of December. On the afternoon of the same day Edward Ritchie called at Fairacre to say good-bye.
He looked dejected and very much out of sorts; weary, with an unusual pallor on his face.
'You really were ill, then, on the 26th?' said Stella, noticing the change in his appearance.
'Yes, of course. Did you think I would stay away for a trifle when you went to my father's? It was a horrid sell altogether. Two of the best horses behaved like shoe-trunks.'
'Why, I thought you were at Mr. Edwin Emberly's place near Reynella?'
'Yes, and we had a private steeplechase—gentlemen riders—and the day was most abominable. Everything went wrong. If I had only stayed at home——'
'You see, Ted, you cannot have your cake and eat it.'
'Cake? it was a cake. You seem to have an idea I stayed away on pleasure.'
'Well, you know, it was an atrocious day, with a fierce east gully wind. It's always a little cooler at Reynella.'
'Not on the 26th, with an amateur steeplechase and only a mob of young bachelors together.'