"Not in the least," said Chris. "There's a stodginess about afternoon calling that affects even the nicest people. It's the most tiresome institution there is."
"Then why do it?" he suggested, with a smile.
She shook her head severely.
"Don't be immoral, Bertie! You're trying to tempt me from my duty."
"Never!" he declared earnestly.
"Oh, but you are; and I am not sure that you are not neglecting your own as well. What brought you out at this hour?"
He spread out his hands. "Mr. Mordaunt has ordered me to take a rest to-day."
Chris looked up at him sharply. "Aren't you well, Bertie?"
"But it is nothing," he said. "I have told him. It happens to me often—often—that I do not sleep. I have explained all that. But what would you? He is obstinate—he will not listen."
Chris patted a hammock-chair beside her. "Sit down at once. I knew there was something the matter directly I saw you this morning. But you always look horribly tired. Do you never sleep properly?"