Scott broke the silence. "Here is Eustace coming to meet us!"
She looked up with a start, and into her face came a curious, veiled expression, half furtive, half afraid.
"Don't tell him, Stumpy!" she said quickly.
"What, dear?"
"Don't tell him I have been looking for Basil this morning. He—he wouldn't understand. And—and—you know—I must look for him sometimes. I shall lose him altogether if I don't."
"Shall we pretend we are enjoying ourselves?" said Scott with a smile.
She answered him with feverish earnestness. "Yes—yes! Let us do that!
And, Stumpy, Stumpy dear, you are good, you can pray. I can't, you know.
Will you—will you pray sometimes—that I may find him?"
"I shall pray that your eyes may be opened, Isabel," he answered, "so that you may know you have never really lost him."
She smiled again, her fleeting, phantom smile. "Don't pray for the impossible, Stumpy!" she said. "I—I think that would be a mistake."
"Is anything impossible?" said Scott.