“Well—not exactly!” he answered. “But I did hope that you would hear me and know that I was about—wishing you would come.”
“I always come out in the morning,” she replied with sudden demureness. “Indeed—I wondered where you were. Let us go out, shall we?”
“We might go for a walk,” suggested Brook.
“It is too late.”
“Just a little walk—down to the town and across the bridge to Atrani, and back. Couldn’t we?”
“Oh, we could, of course. Very well—I’ve got a hat on, haven’t I? All right. Come along!”
“My people are coming to-day,” said Brook, as they passed through the door. “I’ve just had a telegram.”
“To-day!” exclaimed Clare in surprise, and somewhat disturbed.
“Yes, you know I have been expecting them at any moment. I fancy they have been knocking about, you know—seeing Pæstum and all that. They are such queer people. They always want to see everything—as though it mattered!”
“There are only the two? Mr. and Mrs. Johnstone?”