"Nothing, except my heart."
"And that is in good keeping," said Olive, smiling. "Lord Aldean, wait in the carriage with Tui while I buy a paper."
"Plenty of papers here," said the stupid Aldean, not seeing her kindly intention.
Tui, more quick-witted, turned over the journals.
"Telegraph, Morning Post, Daily Mail, Sketch, and Graphic," she counted, "and not a single fashion-paper amongst them; so like a man."
Jim looked depressed, and Olive went off, laughing, in search of publications of a more particularly feminine nature. Tui and her lover were left alone in the carriage.
"Oh, what a donkey!" she said, shaking her head.
For the moment Aldean failed utterly to understand. Then a comprehension of her meaning dawned upon him, and doubtless he did his best to make amends.
Tui's farewell left him in a state of ecstasy, which endured long after the train rolled out of the station. He stared solemnly out of the window, and Olive, who knew well where his thoughts were, had not the heart to break so sacred a silence. She let him dream on, and secluded herself behind her morning paper. He had been indulging himself for the best part of half an hour, when a startled exclamation from Olive aroused him.
"Oh, how dreadful!" she said.