The girl's laughter broke out again, this time attracting the attention of her brother, who was discussing the projected travels, with the aid of Bradshaw, at Mary Masters' side. He glanced at them askance, pulling at his collar in his stiff, nervous fashion a little uneasily.
"What a long time ago all that seems, Philip!" she remarked after a while.
He was silent for a moment examining his finger-nails intently.
"Yes," he said rather sadly; "I suppose it does. I dare say you wouldn't care much for the Zoo now?"
"Oh, I shouldn't mind," she said gaily, "if you will take me."
But a move had been made opposite, and Charles Sylvester, coming up to them, overheard this last remark.
"I think we must be off," he said, consulting his watch. "Where is
Rainham going to take you?"
"To Florence," she said, smiling, "to the Zoo."
"Ah, a good idea," he murmured. "Well, good-bye, Lady Garnett; good-day, Rainham. I am sorry to see you don't seem to have benefited much by your winter abroad. I almost wonder you came back so soon. Was not it rather unwise? This treacherous climate, you know."
"Yes," said Rainham; "I, too, think you are right. I think I had much better have stayed—very much better."