The colour was ebbing and flowing in her cheeks; her grey eyes wore their startled expression. But she held out her slim hand, albeit it trembled a little.
“Good-morning, Mr. Kinross,” she said, “slightly pleasanter weather, is it not? Though I rather expect a thunderstorm, and then perhaps that will be the end of heat waves this summer. What do you think? Must we expect another?”
“Er——” said Hugh, “I really don’t know.”
“Mrs. Lomax writes that it is delightful in New Zealand just now—just like fresh spring weather all the time. Both she and the Judge are feeling better.”
“Glad to hear it,” said Hugh, “but——”
“They are at Rotorua at present,” Miss [p149] Bibby persisted. “The Judge is fortunate enough to have among his memories that of the country before the Pink and White Terraces were swallowed up. But they write that all is very beautiful still. Of course you have been in New Zealand, Mr. Kinross?”
“Miss Bibby,” said Hugh, “I did not come to talk of Pink and White Terraces to you before I removed the dust of my journey. I want to tell you how sorry——”
“I would rather talk of the Terraces, Mr. Kinross,” Miss Bibby said, with a gentle dignity of manner that surprised him. But her soft lip quivered one moment.
“And, by George, Kate,” he said afterwards, recounting the interview to his sister, “I nearly kissed her on the spot—just like I do you when I’ve been ramping round and have hurt you and want to make up. She was taking it so gamely.”
“But I must talk of it,” he insisted. “What a low ruffian you must consider me! I——”