He handed the tea for Christine, and sat beside her, screening her a little from Jimmy's worried eyes. How was she feeling? he was asking himself jealously. Was she glad to see her husband, or did she feel as he did—that Jimmy's unexpected presence had spoilt for them both an hour which neither would easily have forgotten?
"How is your brother?" he asked Jimmy presently. "I haven't heard from him just lately. I suppose he has thought no more of coming home? He has talked of it for so long."
Jimmy roused himself with an effort. He had not touched his tea, and he had given the cake he had mechanically taken to Christine's terrier. He looked at her now, and quickly away again.
"He is on his way home," he said shortly.
There was a little silence. Christine's face flushed; her eyes grew afraid.
"On his way home—the Great Horatio?"
Jimmy's nickname for his brother escaped her unconsciously. Jimmy smiled faintly.
"Yes; I heard last night. I—I believe he arrives in England on
Monday."
It was Kettering who broke the following silence.
"I shall be glad to see him again. He will be surprised to hear that I have come across you and Mrs. Challoner." He spoke to Jimmy, but his whole attention was fixed on the girl at his side. He had seen the sudden stiffening of her slim little figure, the sudden nervous clasp of her hands.