'It is not of his house, but of himself, that a man grows weary,' answered Brian.
Robin was in a vivacious humour, and rattled the car across the hills at a good pace. They had a quarter of an hour to wait at the busy little station. Brian and Ida walked up and down the platform talking, while Reginald looked after the pony and the luggage. They found so much to say to each other, that the train seemed to come too soon.
They bade each other good-bye with a tender look on Brian's part, a blush on Ida's. Reginald had to push his cousin away from the carriage window, in order to get a word with the departing guest.
'We shall all miss you awfully,' he said; 'but mind, you must come back at Christmas.'
'I shall be only too glad, if Mrs. Wendover will have me. Good-bye.'
The train moved slowly forward, and she was gone.
'Isn't she a stunner?' asked Reginald of his cousin, as they stood on the platform looking at each other blankly.
'She is the handsomest girl I ever saw, and out and away the nicest,' answered Brian.