Part 19 (1/2)

”I like it very much,” said Christina soberly.

”Better than Melbourne?”

”Oh, infinitely.”

”And England?”

”Yes, better than England--I can't help it,” Tiny added apologetically.

”There's no reason why you should,” said Lady Dromard, with a smile. ”I could imagine your quite disliking England after Australia. I'm sure my son disliked it when he first came back.”

”Did he?” the girl said indifferently. ”Ah, well! I don't dislike England. I admire it very much, and, of course, it is ever so much better than Australia in every way. We have no villages like Essingham out there, no red tiles and old churches, and certainly no villagers who treat you like a queen on wheels when you walk down the street.

We've nothing of that sort--nor of this sort either--no splendid old houses and beautiful old grounds! But I can't help it, I'd rather live out there. Give me the bus.h.!.+”

”You _are_ enthusiastic about the bush,” said Lady Dromard, laughing; ”yet you don't know how fresh enthusiasm is to one nowadays.”

”I'm afraid I'm not enthusiastic about anything else, then,” answered Christina with engaging candor. ”They tell me I don't half appreciate England; I disappoint all my friends here.”

”Ah, that is perhaps your little joke at our expense!”

Christina was on the brink of an audacious reply when a footman entered with the tea tray. That took some of the audacity out of her. She had not heard the order given. Once more she reflected where she was, and with whom, and once more she wished herself elsewhere. It was a mild return of her panic downstairs. Now she felt vaguely apprehensive and as vaguely exultant. In the uncertain fusion of her feelings she was apt to become a little unguarded in what she said; there was safety in her sense of this tendency, however.

Lady Dromard was reflecting also. As the footman withdrew she had told him not to shut the door. The truth was she had got Christina to herself by pure design, though she had not originally intended to get her to herself up here. That had been an inspiration of the moment, and even now Lady Dromard was by no means sure of its wisdom. She had gone so far as to closet herself with this girl, but she did not wish the proceeding to appear so p.r.o.nounced either to the footman or to the girl herself. It would make the footman talk, while it might frighten the girl. That, at any rate, was the idea of Countess Dromard, who, however, had not yet learnt her way about the young mind with which she was dealing.

The tea tray had been placed on a small table near the window. Lady Dromard promptly settled herself with her back to the light, and motioned Christina to a chair facing her.

”Now you'll be able to watch your beloved bird,” said her ladys.h.i.+p craftily. ”I thought we might as well have tea now we are here. I thought it would be so much more comfortable than having it in the tent.”

Tiny settled a business matter by stating that she took two pieces of sugar, but only one spot of cream. Unconsciously, however, she had followed Lady Dromard's advice, for her eyes were fixed on the parrot in the cage.

”I have only had him a few months,” observed the countess suggestively.

”Something less than a year, I should say.”

”Yes?” And Tiny lowered her eyes politely to her hostess' face.

”Yes,” repeated Lady Dromard affirmatively. ”My son brought him home for me. It was the only present he had time to get, so I rather value it.”

The girl's gaze returned involuntarily to the bird she had caressed; apparently her interest was neither diminished nor increased by this information as to its origin.

”He was in a great hurry to run away from us, was he not?” she remarked inoffensively; but there was no attempt in her manner to conceal the fact that Christina knew what she was talking about.

”He was obliged to return rather suddenly,” said the countess after a moment's hesitation. She made a longer pause before slyly adding, ”I consider myself very lucky to have got him back at all.”

”How is that, Lady Dromard?”

And Christina outstared the countess, so that she was asked whether she would not take another cup of tea. She would, and her hand neither rattled it empty nor spilt it full. Then Lady Dromard smiled at the coronet on her teaspoon, and said to it:

”The fact is I was terrified lest he should go and marry one of you.”

”One of _us_?”