"Aunt Maud," she began, but her voice was drowned in a general exclamation.
"Why, Sahib!" "Dickinson Sahib! Where on earth did you drop from?" "What a delightful surprise!" "Who would have thought of seeing you here? Sit down and tell us all about it. Oh, I forgot—Mr Dickinson, my niece, Miss Maclean."
"I was sure of it," exclaimed the new-comer, shaking hands cordially with the astonished Mona. "If I had met her in the wilds of Arabia, I could have sworn that she was a relative of Lady Munro's." And then the whole story came out, with modifications.
"Well, I must say," said Mona, when the questioning and explanations were over, "that you have treated me extremely badly."
He laughed like a schoolboy. "I am sure you don't grudge me my very small joke."
"No—especially as it makes us quits. Now we can begin a new page."
"I hope it may prove as pleasant as the first."
"Prettily said, Sahib," said Lady Munro. "Now, be sensible and give us an account of your eccentric movements."
"Eccentric!" he said, meditating a far-fetched compliment, but he was a sensible man and he thought better of it. "That's easily done. One of my Scotch visits fell through—a death in the house—so I ran over here for a few days. I thought I should probably run against you,—they say people always do meet in Norway. Of course, I knew you had sailed to Bergen."
"And what is your route now?"