About a week after Dr. Bruce had returned to his plantation Brabant and his wife were talking in their dining-room, from the wide-open windows of which the little harbour of Levuka lay basking in the fervid glow of the westering sun.
Pipe in mouth, and with a smile on his bronzed, rugged face, Brabant was scanning a heap of accounts which were lying on the table. His wife, seated in an easy-chair near the window, fanned herself languidly.
“You've spent a lot of money, Nell, in five months—nearly a thousand pounds. Two hundred a month is a big item to a man in my position.”
“But you are very well off, Jack. You told me yesterday that you will clear three thousand pounds from this last voyage.”
She spoke in a petulant, irritated manner, and her brows drew together as she looked out over the sea.
“Just so, my dear girl; but we cannot afford to live at such a rate as two hundred pounds a month.”
“I have entertained a great many people.” This was said with a sullen inflexion in her voice.
“So I see, Nell. But you need not have done so. We don't want such a lot of visitors.”
“It is all very well for you to talk like that, Jack, but you must remember that I have to keep myself alive in this wretched place whilst you are away.”
Brabant turned his deep-set eyes upon her. “Did you find it so very dull then, Nell?”