CHAPTER II
EVIL TIDINGS
They walked on the following morning over the pine-clad hill and down into the valley beyond, a place of running streams and fresh spring verdure. Stella revelled in its sweetness. It made her think of Home.
"You haven't told me anything about your brother," she said, as they sat together on a grey boulder and basked in the sunshine.
"Haven't I?" Monck spoke meditatively. "I've got a photograph of him somewhere. You must see it. You'll like my brother," he added, with a smile. "He isn't a bit like me."
She laughed. "That's a recommendation certainly. But tell me what he is like! I want to know."
Monck considered. "He is a short, thick-set chap, stout and red, rather like a comedian in face. I think he appreciates a joke more than any one I know."
"He sounds a dear!" said Stella; and added with a gay side-glance, "and certainly not in the least like you. Have you written yet to break the news of your very rash marriage?"
"Yes, I wrote two days ago. He will probably cable his blessing. That is the sort of chap he is."