"'Almost' nobody else?"
Damaris shook her head. She felt a wee bit disappointed in Henrietta. This persistence displeased her as trivial, as lacking in perfection of breeding and taste.
"Quite nobody," she said. And without permitting time for rejoinder launched forth into the subject of the book on the campaigns of Shere Ali, which, as she explained, had been undertaken at Carteret's suggestion and with such encouraging result. She waxed eloquent regarding the progress of the volume and its high literary worth.
"But I was a little nervous lest my father should lose his interest and grow slack when we were alone, and he'd only me to talk things over with and to consult, so I begged Colonel Carteret to come abroad with us."
"Ah! I see—quite so," Henrietta murmured. "It was at your request."
"Yes. He was beautifully kind, as he always is. He agreed at once, gave up all his own plans and came."
"And stays"—Henrietta said.
"Yes, for the present. But to tell the truth I'm worried about his staying."
"Why?"—again with a just perceptible edge of eagerness.
"Because, of course, I have no right to trade on his kindness, even for my father's sake or the sake of the book."