"I think that was very wise of him," Vane commented.
His hostess smiled.
"For one thing, we had a letter from Evelyn Chisholm this afternoon.
She'll be out to spend some time with us in about a month."
"Evelyn's coming here?" Vane exclaimed, with a sudden stirring of his heart.
"Why should she no? I told ye some time ago that we partly expected her.
Ye were no astonished then."
She appeared to expect an explanation of the change in his attitude, and as he volunteered none she drew him a few paces aside.
"If I'm no betraying a confidence, Evelyn writes—I'm no sure of the exact words—that she'll be glad to get away a while. Now, I've been wondering why she should be anxious to leave home?"
She looked at him fixedly, and, to his annoyance, he felt his face grow hot. Mrs. Nairn had quick perceptions, and now and then she was painfully direct.
"It struck me that Evelyn was not very comfortable there," he replied. "She seemed out of harmony with her people—she didn't belong. The same thing," he went on lamely, "applies to Mopsy."
Mrs. Nairn glanced at him with a twinkle in her eyes.