"Come and have a pipe and a glass of brandy and soda. You look awfully down in the mouth, Wilton."
But Raymond passed on, saying, "Not to-day, thanks."
"Oh, I say, are you in a great scrape? Don't be sulky, old fellow. Come along."
"No," Raymond said more decidedly; "my sister is very ill, and I am going home."
"Sister—which sister? the pretty one at Cannes?"
"No; my eldest sister. This is my way," he said, glad to escape from what was, now at least, most uncongenial company.
When he reached Elm Cottage, Stevens met him.
"She is herself now, and she keeps asking for you."
"I can't see her; it will kill me."
"Don't talk like that, Master Raymond. Go to the dear lamb at once; she is asking for you every minute."