Evereld seemed more talkative than usual, but when, having duly inspected the waterfall, he tried hard to draw her into the region of sentiment, she seemed more provokingly matter of fact than ever.
“It’s very sad to think we have only one more excursion before we go home,” he remarked, “how detestable England will seem after this holiday.”
“Do you think so,” said Evereld, “why I am longing to get back to England. Lovely as this place is, it seems so dreadfully far away.”
“Far away from what?” said Bruce Wylie.
“Well, from one’s friends and belongings,” said Evereld.
Bruce Wylie could only pretend to be deeply offended.
“You say that to me,” he said tragically, “one of your oldest friends!”
She laughed merrily.
“It was certainly a case of what Punch would call ‘Things one would rather have expressed differently.’ But though the tour has been a great treat I believe I should always begin to be homesick for England at the end of six weeks.”
“Oh if it is only an abstraction like England I will not be jealous, it isn’t worth while,” said her companion with a laugh.