“I’ll have it out with her,” he muttered.
Captain Omar smiled again, more thoroughly this time; he had very white teeth, and very blue eyes, though his hair was dark and his complexion bronzed. And as his eyes smiled as well as his lips, the effect was very pleasant.
“I cannot expect you to remember,” he said. “But I do—the last summer you spent here, as a baby almost—before you went to live with your aunt—that summer I spent my holidays here—at Cheynesacre, that is to say. That was in the days when Cheynes was ‘big Phil,’ and ran races with a certain little lady perched on his shoulders.”
Ella grew crimson—but she would not seem annoyed by anything Captain Omar said.
“Yes,” she replied—her calm tone belying her face, “what absurd creatures children are. But I was really only a baby then. No, I don’t remember you, Captain Omar, but I am very pleased to make your acquaintance.”
She held out her hand graciously—Bernard took it deferentially, as if he appreciated the honour. Ella had not shaken hands with Philip.
“I must be quick,” she said, “my sisters will think I have forgotten what I was sent for,” and with a smile and nod to Captain Omar she flew off.
“What a lovely girl she has become,” said he enthusiastically.
Sir Philip gave a sort of grunt.
“You think so?” he said. “Well, yes—she is very much admired.”