“Why, Evereld!” said a familiar voice, and a tall pretty looking girl stepped forward with a warm greeting.
It was May Coniston, an old schoolfellow who had left Southbourne at Easter, and had come out to Switzerland for rest after the toils of her first London season. She introduced Evereld to her mother, and they listened to her description of the contretemps that had befallen her, and Evereld introduced Mr. Wylie to them.
“It is most fortunate you just happened to come across us,” said May Coniston cheerfully. “I can lend you everything, and mother will be only too delighted to take care of you. There is nothing she enjoys so much as looking after girls.”
So in the end Evereld had an extremely pleasant evening, lost her heart to kindly Mrs. Coniston, sat up hair-brushing with her friend till after midnight, and was delighted to have May for a companion in her large, lonely bedroom where, as Mrs. Coniston remarked, they could fancy themselves back at school once more.
Early the next morning, having parted with the Conistons, who were going to Champéry, Bruce Wylie and Evereld returned to Glion, arriving just in time for lunch. They encountered Janet and Minnie in the entrance hall, and Evereld went straight to the salle à manger with them, laughing over the events of the previous day, and remonstrating with them for having deserted her.
“We all got into the train when it came up,” explained Janet calmly, “hoping to the last that you would come before it started; it must have been some minutes in the station. Mamma was vexed with us for coming on, but of course we all knew you were safe; your telegram got here before we did.”
“Where is Lady Mactavish?” asked Evereld.
“She has gone down to Montreux to lunch with Lady Mount Pleasant, who by the bye has invited us all to go to-morrow to her picnic at a place near the Rochers de Nave.”
Just at that moment Sir Matthew and Mr. Bruce Wylie joined them. There was something unusual in her guardian’s manner, and Evereld wondered what had brought the cloud to his brow. It did not disappear at all when he greeted her, and had it not been for a talkative German doctor, who conversed learnedly with Janet, their party would have been an uncomfortably silent one throughout the meal.
“I want a few words with you, my dear,” said Sir Matthew, when at last lunch was over. “Come with me to our own sitting-room. We shall not be interrupted there.”