He could hardly believe his eyes. For a whole year he had heard nothing of her; he seemed to have completely lost sight of her; and now at last he had found her, and in that unexpected place.
Captain Berington saw how earnestly Fortescue looked at the photograph; he thought that he noticed something more than mere attention in his gaze. Our eyes cannot always keep our secrets so well as our lips do, and there was a look in Kenneth Fortescue's eyes which told his friend a story about which his lips were sealed. But he interpreted that look wrongly.
"Poor Fortescue! I remember he was rather smitten with Vi once upon a time," he said to himself. "I ought not to have shown him that photo."
He put out his hand for it, that he might replace it in his pocket-book; but at first Kenneth did not seem to see.
"It's a beautiful photo, Berington! I suppose you haven't one to spare."
"Well, I am afraid not. I have another here, but I promised it to Miss Douglas; she wants to send it to her mother."
"Is she—"
Kenneth paused. He was going to say, "Is she well?" But that might have let out that secret of his, which his lips must guard with care. Captain Berington noticed his hesitation, but put it down to quite a different cause.
"She's an awfully jolly girl; she's a kind of companion to Violet—quite a lady though! It has made all the difference in the world to Vi having her."
Kenneth did not answer. He handed the photo back, though he would much have liked to have slipped it into his pocket.