"They come to us. It is your Mem Sahib and her people. Hear them."
She spoke truly. Jane had miscalculated as to her hour, or the time spent at the dinner-table had been shorter than usual. In fact, Lady Walderhurst had brought her guests to see the young moon peer through the lime-trees, as she sometimes did when the evening was warm.
Jane Cupp fled precipitately. Ameerah disappeared also, but without precipitation or any sign of embarrassment.
"You look as if you had not slept well, Jane," Lady Walderhurst remarked in the morning as her hair was being brushed. She had glanced into the glass and saw that it reflected a pale face above her own, and that the pale face had red rims to its eyes.
"I have been a bit troubled by a headache, my lady," Jane answered.
"I have something like a headache myself." Lady Walderhurst's voice had not its usual cheerful ring. Her own eyes looked heavy. "I did not rest well. I have not rested well for a week. That habit of starting from my sleep feeling that some sound has disturbed me is growing on me. Last night I dreamed again that someone touched my side. I think I shall be obliged to send for Sir Samuel Brent."
"My lady," exclaimed Jane feverishly, "if you would—if you would."
Lady Walderhurst's look at her was nervous and disturbed.
"Do you—does your mother think I am not as well as I should be, Jane?" she said.