"Alas, Cherry, I can't stop!" Anstice's comically regretful tone made Chloe smile. "I shall have to go home and see my patients. And if I get a chop----"
"And a chipped potato, my dear," prompted Cherry.
"And a chipped potato," concurred Anstice obediently, "I shall think myself lucky! But I wish you hadn't told me there were to be lots of pheasants!"
"They're for Daddy, speshully," said Cherry, "'cos he's got sick of chickens in Injia--but I like the bready sauce and the little brown crumbs best!"
"And that reminds me," said Major Carstairs, looking at his watch rather ostentatiously, "I should be glad if you could put forward dinner a little, Chloe. I must catch the nine-thirty to town."
"Oh, Daddy, you're not going to-night!" Cherry forsook Anstice for the moment and clambered on to her father's knee. "You said you were going to stop and you'd come and tell me stories in bed!"
"I did, and I don't like breaking my word to a lady," said Major Carstairs seriously, "but I really must go back to town to-night, and I'll come down to-morrow or the next day, and stay a long, long time!"
"You might tell Hagyard Major Carstairs will not be staying to-night, Tochatti," said Chloe, turning to the woman, and Anstice's quick eyes caught the look of relief compounded with something like surprise which flashed across Tochatti's swarthy countenance.
"Bene, Signora." With a strange look at Anstice, a look which did not escape the notice of the person at whom it was levelled, Tochatti withdrew, and since further conversation was impossible in Cherry's presence, Anstice made his farewells and went out to the car, escorted by his host, who seized the opportunity to fix the details of the evening's later meeting.
"You will leave the house about a quarter to nine, I suppose?" asked Anstice. "Well, look here, why not come round to my place to fill in the time until we can go back? We shall be alone, and unless I'm called out--which I trust won't happen--we can have a quiet chat and a smoke."
"Right. I'll be at your place about nine, and if you're busy I can read the paper, you know. Till then, au revoir!"
Anstice nodded and mounted to the steering seat, and Major Carstairs went back into the house, wondering why the younger man's face wore so sad an expression in repose.
"Of course that Indian affair was rather a facer, but the story's some years old by now and one would think he'd have got over it. As decent a fellow as I've ever met. But he seems altogether too old for his age, and even when he smiles or jokes with the child he doesn't look happy. I wonder if Chloe knows any reason for his melancholy air?"