He could at least
talk naturally of Miss Wishart.
"The Wisharts took the place, you know, Mrs. Logan, so we saw a lot of
them. The girl was delightful, good sportswoman and all that sort of
thing, and capital company. I wonder she never told us about you. She
knew we were coming out here, for I told her, and she was very
interested."
"Yes, it's odd, for I suppose she had read Mr. Haystoun's book, where
my husband comes in a good deal. I shall tell her about seeing you in
my next letter. And now tell me your plans."
Lewis's face had begun to burn in a most compromising way. Those last
days in Glenavelin had risen again before the eye of his mind and old
wounds were reopened. The thought that Alice was not yet wholly out of
his life, that the new world was not utterly severed from the old,
affected him with a miserable delight. Mrs. Logan became invested with
an extraordinary interest. He pulled himself together to answer her
question.
"Oh, our errand is much the same as last time. We want to get all the
sport we can, and if possible to cross the mountains into Turkestan. I
am rather keen on geographical work just now, and there's a bit of land
up here which wants exploring."
The lady laughed. "That sounds like poor dear Mr. Gribton. I suppose
you remember him? He left here in the summer, but when he lived in
Bardur he had got that northern frontier-line on the brain.
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