“Yes, from nursery days. Ally never has called me anything else but Chum, because it amply defined the position. I don’t mind other people using it a bit.”
Mrs. Gilderoy half closed her eyes, and looked up with a glitter of laughter in them. “When you talk like that it sounds as if you had married your brother!” she said.
But Mrs. Lewin’s smooth fair cheeks did not even flush. She was chattering with Major Churton over a gymkana next week, and a pony which she was to name.
“I think I shall call it ‘Key’land Gloom’!” she said. “It expresses the mind of all the officials here so well. I have hardly heard any one speak well of the place since I arrived.”
“Beastly hole!” said Di Churton loudly. “I wish they had sent Bute to the West Coast, rather.”
“But that is a fever station!”
“Yes, and it’s better pay and better leave. I shouldn’t mind Sierra Leone for a bit—a good many women have gone out.”
“I expect that will be my next job!” said Churton carelessly, as he set down his empty glass. “It’s Paradise to this, anyway!”
“Oh, don’t talk of this! I hate Key Island, and everything in it. Have a whiskey, Ally Sloper?” Di smiled at Mrs. Lewin to introduce the nickname in public. Next time she would not take the trouble, while further off still she would say Ally without reserve.
“Better not, Ally!” said Chum, laughing. “I shall have to carry you home if you begin so early.”