Doris did not answer, and they sat for some time in silence, the line on Mona's brow gradually deepening.
"Dearest," said Doris at last, "I don't bore you, do I? You would not rather be alone?"
Mona laughed. "What will you do if I say 'Yes'?" she said. "Pull the cord and pay the fine? or jump out of the window? My dear, I could count on the fingers of one hand the times when you have bored me, and I am particularly glad to have you to-day. I should fret myself to death if I were alone, between anxiety about Lucy, and vexation at having missed the Sahib."
Doris's face clouded. "Mona dear, I do wish the Munros had stayed in India till you had got on the Register. I don't approve of men whom all women instinctively look upon as brothers. Marriage is perfectly fatal to students of either sex."
"Marriage!" said Mona, aghast. "Marry the Sahib! My dear Doris, I would as soon think of marrying you!"
"I wish you would," said Doris calmly; "but I would not have a word to say to you till you had got on the Register. Oh how lovely!"
The train had emerged on the open coast, and every line and curve on creek and cliff stood out sharp and clear in the crisp light of the October morning.
"Isn't it?" The line on Mona's brow vanished. "You know, Doris, I believe I am a bit of the east coast, I love it so. Heigh-ho! I do think Lucy must be better."
"Judging from what you have told me of her. I should think the chances were in favour of her meeting you at the station."
Mona laughed. "She is an india-rubber ball—up one moment, down the next; but it has been no laughing matter this time. I told you she got through her examination all right."