Loudly I rang the tortoise, and he was on his feet in an instant, blinkingly staring at Jane.
"It's not a fire or an accident," I said; "it's Miss Fairbrother."
With the first of Jane's wholesome, heartsome smiles I knew that his conquest had begun. They shook hands, and he apologised for being caught in such an attitude.
"It enabled me to have a good look at Marguerite's husband, of whom I have heard so much," said Jane frankly.
"And what do you think of him?" Dimbie asked with a twinkle.
"I must reserve my judgment till later. It may be a case of cruelty, desertion, and wife beating. Appearances are so deceitful. And no faith should be placed in a young wife's estimate of her husband."
He pushed his hammock chair towards her.
"Won't you take this; it is more comfortable. And were Marg's letters very tiresome?"
"Well, she didn't say much about you." Jane wore an air of "May God forgive me!" "But what little she did write of you was mostly to the good."
Dimbie laughed, and began to enjoy himself.