"But, Meg, that never happens when I'm with
you. I confess I've left you to it this last week...."
"And what am I here for except to be left to it—I don't mean that anyone's rude or pushing—but Miss Tancred is so friendly, and I'm not dignified and awe-inspiring like you, you great big Jan; and the poor men are encouraged, directly and deliberately encouraged, by your niece. I never knew a child with such a continual flow of conversation."
"Poor Meg," said Jan, "you won't have much more of it. Little Fay is a handful, I confess; but I always feel it must be a bit hard to be hushed continually—and just when one feels particularly bright and sparkling, to have all one's remarks cut short...."
"You needn't pity that child. No amount of hushing has any effect; you might just as well hush a blackbird or a thrush. Don't look so worried, Jan. Did Mr. Ledgard say anything about Hugo in that letter to-night?"
"Only that he was known to have left Karachi in a small steamer going round the coast, but after that nothing more. Mr. Ledgard has a friend in the Police, and even there they've heard nothing lately. I think myself the Indian Government wants to lose sight of Hugo. He's inconvenient and disgraceful, and they'd like him blotted out as soon as possible."
"What else does Mr. Ledgard say? He seems to write good long letters."
"He is coming home at the end of April for six months."
"Oh ... then we shall see him, I suppose?"
"I hope so."