Charles sat down. ‘I’m sorry too,’ he said handsomely. ‘Now let’s talk about something else. Our only hope is to forget poor Rupert.’
‘I’ll try to forget him,’ Charlotte said; ‘but he was such a nice boy. I suppose you had to do it, Caro. But, oh, I do wish he was back again.’
Here Charlotte began to cry.
‘Oh, don’t!’ said Caroline, putting her arm round her; ‘do you mean to say you don’t understand yet? I’d no idea you could be so silly.’
‘I don’t think she’s silly at all,’ said Charles loyally. ‘I wish he was here too.’
‘He is here,’ said Caroline in an exasperated whisper; ‘just behind you. We thought you might be some one else, so he hid. Come back, Rupert; it’s only them.’
And from the tangled thicket Rupert put forth a head very rough as to the hair, which bristled with twigs and pine-needles.
‘Then you didn’t run away to sea?’
‘Not much,’ Rupert answered, leaning on his elbows and showing only the head and shoulders part of him.
‘But the letter said——’