The Macartneys saw no more of Urquhart, who, however, recovered the use of his backbone, and with it his zest for the upper air. He sent Lucy some flowers after the event of June, and later on, at the end of July, a letter, which I reproduce.
"Quid plura? I had news of you and greeted it, and am gone. I have hired myself to the Greeks for the air. I take two machines of my own, and an m. b. If you can forgive me when I have worked out my right we shall meet again. If you, I shall know, and keep off. Good-bye, Lucy.
"J. U.
"The one thing I can't forgive myself was the first, a wild impulse, but a cad's. All the rest was inevitable. Good-bye."
She asked Lancelot what Quid plura meant. He snorted. "Hoo! Stale! It means, what are you crying about? naturally. Who said it? That letter? Who's it from? Mr. Urquhart, I suppose?"
"Yes, it's from Mr. Urquhart, to say Good-bye. He's going to Greece, to fly for the navy."
"Oh. Rather sport. Has he gone?"
"Yes, dear, I think so."
"You'll write to him, I suppose?"
"I might."