“What?” Julia once more had the sensation that Nevis had left her moorings. She caught the back of the sofa for support. “What are you talking about? Mr. Tay is in California.”
“Not he. He’s been here, stalkin’ round this island, or cruisin’ round in a motor boat he’s hired, for the last five days. I saw him through the field-glass, but didn’t know what brought him until to-day.”
“But what—what—has he come for? Oh, how could he!”
“He’ll tell you that, never fear! The others, includin’ Mrs. Morison, were all for a surprise, but I thought it my duty to tell you. That is the reason I wanted you to go straight home—surprises are so fatiguin’—but there may be time yet. He’s off somewhere in his boat, and the steamer was ahead of time —”
Julia sprang to her feet. “I’ll go this minute. I can walk. You stay with Fanny—poor little thing —”
And then she sat down. Tay was running up the steps of the terrace.
Mrs. Winstone rose and retreated gracefully. Julia’s heart had leaped, but she was very angry. She had made her own plans too long. This was to have been an interval of rest. As Tay walked rapidly down the long hall she was not too agitated to observe that although his keen eyes were alight and eager, and his mouth smiling, there was less confidence in his bearing than usual; she also observed that white linen became him remarkably.
“I think this quite abominable of you,” she said coldly, as he dropped into the chair before her. She withheld her hand.
“So does my father. But please don’t be angry with me. I really couldn’t help it when I heard —”
“How did you hear? Dark, of course. What treachery!”