t was, on the
observation that the beautiful clock on the mantel was wrong, to consult
once more his watch and then give a glance, in the chimney-glass, at the
state of his moustache, the ends of which he twisted for a moment
with due care. While so engaged he became aware of something else and,
quickly facing about, recognised in the doorway of the room the other
figure the glass had just reflected.

"Oh YOU?" he said with a quick handshake. "Mrs. Grendon's down?" But he
had already passed with Nanda, on their greeting, back into the first
room, which contained only themselves, and she had mentioned that she
believed Tishy to have said 8.15, which meant of course anything people
liked.

"Oh then there'll be nobody till nine. I didn't, I suppose, sufficiently
study my note; which didn't mention to me, by the way," Vanderbank
added, "that you were to be here."

"Ah but why SHOULD it?" Nanda spoke again, however, before he could
reply. "I dare say that when she wrote to you she didn't know."

"Know you'd come bang up to meet me?" Vanderbank laughed. "Jolly at any
rate, thanks to my mistake, to have in this way a quiet moment with you.
You came on ahead of your mother?"

"Oh no--I'm staying here."

"Oh!" said Vanderbank.

"Mr. Longdon came up with me--I came here, Friday last, straight."

"You parted at the door?" he asked with marked gaiety.

She thought a moment--she was more serious. "Yes--but only for a day or
two. He's coming tonight."

"Good. How delightful!"

"He'll be glad to see you," Nanda said, looking at the flowers.

"Awfully kind of him when I've been such a brute."

"How--a brute?"

"Well, I mean not writing--nor going back."

"Oh I see," Nanda simply returned.

It was a simplicity that, clearly enough, made her friend a little
awkward. "Has he--a--minded? Hut he can't have complained!" he quickly
added.

"Oh he never complains."

"No, no--it isn't in him. But it's just that," said Vanderbank, "that
makes one feel so base. I've been ferociously busy."

"He knows that--he likes it," Nanda returned. "He delights in your work.
And I've done what I can for him."

"Ah," said her companion, "you've evidently brought him round. I mean to
this lady."

"To Tishy? Oh of course I can't leave her--with nobody."

"No"--Vanderbank became jocose again--"that's a London necessity. You
can't leave anybody with nobody--exposed to everybody."

Mild as it was, however, Nanda missed the pleasantry.