"Perhaps it would be safer," agreed Scott. "Tell her my sister is an invalid! I don't think she will object. I made the acquaintance of the doughty Colonel last night."
"You know he isn't a bad sort," said Dinah. "He is much nicer than Lady Grace or Rose. Of course he's rather stuck up, but that's only natural. He's lived so long in India, and now he's a J.P. into the bargain. It would be rather wonderful if he were anything else. Billy can't bear him, but then Billy's a boy."
"I like Billy," observed Scott.
"Yes, and Billy likes you," she answered warmly. "He's quite an intelligent boy."
"Evidently," agreed Scott, with a smile. "Now here is the village! Where do I post my letters?"
Dinah directed him with cheerful alacrity. She was feeling much happier; her tottering self-respect was almost restored.
"He is a dear little man!" she said to herself with enthusiasm, as she waited for him to purchase some stamps.
"You've done me no end of good," she said frankly to the man himself as they turned back.
"I am very pleased to hear it," said Scott. "And it is extremely kind of you to say so."
"It's the truth," she maintained. "And, oh, you haven't been smoking all this time. Don't you want to?"
He stopped at once, and took out his cigarette-case. "Now you mention it, I think I do. But I mustn't dawdle. I have got to get back to Isabel."
Dinah waited while the cigarette kindled. Then, with a touch of shyness, she spoke.
"Mr. Studley, has--has your sister been an invalid for long?"
He looked at her. "Do you want to hear about her?"
"Yes, please," said Dinah. "If you don't mind."
He began to walk on. It was evident that the hill was something of a difficulty to him. He moved slowly, and his limp became more pronounced. "No, I should like to tell you about her," he said. "You were so good yesterday, and I hadn't prepared you in the least. I hope it didn't give you a shock."
"Of course it didn't," Dinah answered. "I'm not such a donkey as that. I was only very, very sorry."
"Thank you," he said, as if she had expressed direct sympathy with himself. "It's hard to believe, isn't it, that seven years ago she was--even lovelier than the beautiful Miss de Vigne, only in a very different style?"