"Oh, Mrs Desmond, I do hope I am not disturbing you." Miss Kresney came forward with a rather too effusive warmth of manner. "But you forgot to mention if you dine at a quarter to eight or a quarter past; and I was not certain if you meant us to dress or not."
Miss Kresney would probably have been amazed could she have seen these two Englishwomen dining together.
"Why, yes," Evelyn answered simply, "we always dress in the evening, Honor and I. But—please don't think me very rude—I'm afraid I must ask you and your brother to put off coming till—some other night. I was just going to send you a note; because Honor is—not at all well. She has been out in the sun all day, and her head is bad. She must keep quiet to-night. You see, don't you, that I can't help it? It isn't my fault."
Linda Kresney's face had fallen very blank; but she pulled herself together, and called up a cold little smile.
"Of course not, Mrs Desmond. How could I think it is your fault, when you have always been so veree kind to us? We often say it is a pity every one is not so kind as you are. I am sorry Miss Meredith is not well." An acid note invaded her voice. She had her own suspicions of Honor, as being too obviously Captain Desmond's friend. "My brother will be terribly disappointed. No doubt we can come some day veree soon instead."
But Evelyn was too self-absorbed to detect the obvious hint.
"Yes—I hope so," she agreed, without enthusiasm; then, seeing puzzled dissatisfaction in Linda Kresney's eyes, made haste to add: "Perhaps you'll stay a little now, as you are not coming to-night. It's quite early still, and I'm all alone."
Miss Kresney sat down with unconcealed alacrity, and Evelyn followed her example, laying her hand on the tell-tale papers. The trouble of her mind showed so clearly in her eyes and lips, that the girl, who had begun to grow really fond of her, was emboldened to risk a vague proffer of sympathy. She had never as yet found the opportunity her brother so desired of making herself useful; and she was quick-witted enough to perceive that Fate might be favouring her at last.
"I am afraid you have been worried about something, Mrs Desmond," she began warily. "Perhaps after all I had better not stay here, bothering you to make talk. Unless perhaps—I can help you in any way. I should be very glad to, if you will not think me officious to say so. I cannot bear to see you look so unhappee. It is not bad news from Kohat, I hope?"