"But, Fay, it's very bad for you to be always indoors. Surely, in the early morning or the evening--you'll come out then?" Fay shook her head. "Peter has taken me out in the motor once or twice at night--but I don't really like it. It makes me so dreadfully tired. Don't worry me about that, Jan. I get plenty of air in the verandah. It's just as pretty there as in your balcony, and we can have comfortable chairs. Let's go there now. _You_ shall go out as much as you like. I'll send Lalkhan with you, or Ayah and the children; and Peter will take you about all he can--he promised he would. Don't think I want to be selfish and keep you here with me all the time." The flat, weak voice, so nervous, so terrified lest her stronger sister should force her to some course of action she dreaded, went to Jan's heart. "My dear," she said gently, "I haven't come here to rush about. I've come to be with you. We'll do exactly what you like best." Fay clung to her again and whispered, "Later on you'll understand better--I'll be able to tell you things, and perhaps you'll understand ... though I'm not sure--you're not weak like me, you'd never go under ... you'd always fight...." There was a pattering of small feet in the passage. Little high voices called for "Mummy," and the children came in. Tony, a grave-eyed, pale-faced child of five, came forward instantly, with his hand held out far in front of him. Jan, who loved little children, knew in a minute that he was afraid she would kiss him; so she shook hands with gentlemanly stiffness. Little Fay, on the contrary, ran forward, held up her arms "to be taken" and her adorably pretty little face to be kissed. She was startlingly like her mother at the same age, with bobbing curls of feathery gold, beseeching blue eyes and a complexion delicately coloured as the pearly pink lining of certain shells. She was, moreover, chubby, sturdy and robust--quite unlike Tony, who looked nervous, bleached and delicate. Tony went and leant against his mother, regarding Jan and his small sister with dubious, questioning eyes. Presently he remarked, "I wish she hadn't come." "Oh, Tony," Fay exclaimed reproachfully, "you must both love Auntie Jan very dearly. She has come such a long way to be good to us all." "I wish she hadn't," Tony persisted. "_I_ sall love Auntie Dzan," Fay remarked, virtuously.