“Oh, but she is very kind,” Florence said, as she displayed the presents. “How did Mr. Wimple know that you were going to India?” she asked.
“I met him yesterday at the office. He went to see Fisher; it was arranged that he should the other night.”
“It is very extraordinary his striking up a friendship with Aunt Anne.”
“Yes, very extraordinary,” he laughed and then the old lady was forgotten.
The days flew by and the last one came. To-morrow (Thursday) Walter was to start by an early train for Southampton. All his arrangements were complete, and on that last day he had virtually nothing to do, “therefore, Floggie dear,” he pleaded, “let us have a spree.”
“Yes,” she answered, willingly enough, though her heart was heavier than his. “How shall we manage it?”
“Let us stroll about all day or go to Richmond, and come back and have a cosy little dinner somewhere.”
“Here,” she pleaded, “let us dine here, in our own home on this last evening; we’ll have a very nice dinner.”
“Very nice indeed?”
“Very nice indeed, you greedy thing.”