"What time do we dine to-day?" he asked sharply of the servant who answered it.
"At four, sir."
"What a nuisance! And I am as hungry as a hunter. Get me something to eat. Here—stop—where are they all?"
"Madam's at home, sir; and I think Miss Octave's at home. The rest are out."
Cris muttered something which was not heard, which perhaps he did not intend should be heard; and when his luncheon was brought in, he sat down to it with great satisfaction. After he had finished, he went to the stables, and by-and-by came in to find his sister.
"Octave, I want to take you for a drive. Will you go?"
The unwonted attention on her brother's part quite astonished Octave. Before now she had asked him to drive her out, and been met with a rough refusal. Cris was of that class of young men who see no good in overpowering their sisters with attention.
"Get your things on at once," said Cris.
Octave felt dubious. She was writing letters to some particular friends with whom she kept up a correspondence, and did not care to be interrupted.
"Where is it to go, Cris?"