“Sir Anthony had an operation to perform here,” Hugh explained, “and, like the brick he is, took me as his anæsthetist. I never thought of this luck!”
“Oh, Hugh! how are they all? How is mother? Oh, dear! there are such hundreds of things I want to ask you!”
“I’m just the same. How are you, dear? Your letters are jolly, but they don’t tell a quarter that we want to know. You’re looking well.” The old brotherly approval in his eyes was replaced, the girl saw, by a new expression. “Who are you with? Are you driving, or what? Can I walk with you? You mustn’t stand in this cold.”
“No, I am sure Miss Lisle should not,” Sir Algernon interpolated suavely. “Mr. Chichester, I suppose?”
Hugh bowed and apologised. Sydney introduced the two in form, with a loving pride in speaking Hugh’s name which did not escape the baronet.
“We ought to be rejoining Lady Frederica, don’t you think?” he said to her; “we were ordered not to linger.”
“I forgot,” said Sydney. “Yes, we must go. Hugh, come too. I want to show you to Lady Frederica.”
And Hugh, against his better judgment, came. It was hard to refuse Sydney anything when the sweet face looked at him so earnestly. Besides, at home they would be hungry for news; how could he help saying yes.
He walked beside her, but confidences were impossible in the presence of Sir Algernon, although that gentleman made himself exceedingly agreeable according to his wont. Still, Hugh could look at Sydney and hear her speak, and that was something.