"A little too excellent," replied Fitzgerald, ruefully, "he's a man that can't leave well alone."
"Apropos of what?"
"Oh, nothing," answered Fitzgerald, hastily, and just then his eyes met those of Frettlby. The two men looked at each other steadily for a moment, but in that short space of time a single name flashed through their brains—that name was Rosanna Moore. Mr. Frettlby was the first to lower his eyes and break the magnetism.
"Ah, well," he said lightly, as he rose from his chair, and held out his hand, "if you are two weeks in town call at St. Kilda, and it's more than likely you will find us there."
Brian shook hands in silence, and watched him pick up his hat and move on to the verandah, and then out into the hot sunshine.
"He knows," he muttered involuntarily.
"Knows what, sir?" said Madge, who came silently behind him, and slipped her arm through his. "That you are hungry, and want something to eat before you leave us?"
"I don't feel hungry," said Brian, as they walked toward the door.
"Nonsense," answered Madge, merrily, who, like Eve, was on hospitable thoughts intent. "I'm not going to have you appear in Melbourne a pale, fond lover, as though I were treating you badly. Come, sir—no," she continued, putting up her hand as he tried to kiss her; "business first, pleasure afterwards," and they went into the dining-room laughing.
Mark Frettlby wandered down to the lawn tennis ground, thinking of the look he had seen in Brian's eyes. He shivered for a moment in the hot sunshine, as though it had grown suddenly chill.
"Some one stepping across my grave," he murmured to himself, with a cynical smile. "Bah! how superstitious I am, and yet—he knows, he knows!"
"Come on, sir," cried Felix, who had just caught sight of him; "a racket awaits you."
Frettlby woke with a start, and found himself near the lawn tennis ground, and Felix at his elbow, smoking.
He roused himself with a great effort, and tapped the young man lightly on the shoulder.
