Aileen opened her lips to speak and then closed them again. They talked idly of the garden, the tulips that were just blossoming, and the new roses, until tea was over and a silent-footed maid had removed the tray. Macleod lit a cigarette, and lay back in his chair.
"Tell me, Tom," she said quietly. "I know there is something more."
He was silent for a moment, looking at her. She was very pale, her breath coming quickly.
"Don't bother about anything now," he said. "We've got the little chap back; and you're dog-tired. You mustn't worry about anything."
"Don't you see—when I don't know, I think it's Garth!" Her voice broke, almost in a cry. "Tell me—quick!"
He was on his knees beside her in a flash.
"What a fool I am!—it's all right, my girl. Garth's quite safe. Only we've got to go away—to leave all this and take him to the Bush. He'll grow strong if we do. But I didn't know how to tell you."
His wife gave a long sigh, and put her face down on his shoulder.
"Oh-h!" she said. "I thought it was something that really mattered!"
"My girl!" said Macleod huskily. For a while they did not move. Then she put him away from her gently, and looked at him with steady eyes.