‘At Agworth station,’ replied Adela, turning her eyes again in that quarter. ‘My brother’s train ought to be in by now, I think. He comes home every Saturday.’
‘Does he?’
Hubert spoke without thought, his look resting upon the maiden’s red girdle.
‘I am glad that you are well again,’ Adela said with natural kindness. ‘You have had a long illness.’
‘Yes; it has been a tiresome affair. Is Mrs. Waltham well?’
‘Quite, thank you.’
‘And your brother?’
‘Alfred never had anything the matter with him in his life, I believe,’ she answered, with a laugh.
‘Fortunate fellow! Will you lend me the glass?’
She held it to him, and at the same moment her straying eye caught a glimpse of white smoke, far off.