‘That has turned into mineralogy, worse luck,’ said Gillian.
‘Gill has done a beautiful sketch of Rockquay,’ added Mysie.
‘Oh! don’t talk of me,’ said Gillian. ‘I have only made a most unmitigated mess of everything.’
But here attention was diverted by Harry’s exclaiming—
‘Hullo! was that Henderson?’
‘Nonsense; the Wardours are at Cork.’
‘He may be on leave.’
‘Or retired. He is capable of it.’
‘I believe it was old Fangs.’
The discussion lasted to Belgrave Square.