Mona opened her lips to speak, and then thought better of it. There was no need to say that, at the best, social success seemed a poor thing to give one's mind to; attractive enough, no doubt, so long as it was unattained; but when attained, as the sole result of years of effort, nothing but Dead Sea fruit. Sir Douglas got up and offered her his arm without speaking. They walked up and down the deck together. "Where are your cigars?" she said. "I am sure you want one." "I don't," he said irritably. "I want you." But he allowed her to get one out of his case for him nevertheless. "And now, Mona," he said more amiably, "I want you to tell me all about your money affairs--what you have got, how it is invested, and who looks after it for you." "You are very kind," she said gratefully; "but please don't suppose I was thinking of money when I talked of hardship. I am quite a Croesus now. I had to be very careful for a year or two, while things were unsettled." "And why the deuce did not you write to me? What did you suppose you had an uncle for? What is the use of your coming to us now, when you are quite independent and we can do nothing for you?" Mona pressed his hand affectionately in both of here. "The use is problematical from your point of view, I confess, but from mine it is infinite. You have made me fancy myself a girl again." "And what are you but a girl! But come along, I am to hear all about your money." And they entered into a long and involved discussion. The Sahib meanwhile was looking on in a mood as nearly approaching ill-humour as was possible to him. If Lady Munro and Mona had both been available, he might have been in some doubt as to which he should converse with; but Sir Douglas had settled the question by monopolising Mona, and she had become proportionately desirable in his eyes. He persuaded himself that he had fifty things to say to her on this the last day of their companionship, and he considered himself much aggrieved. Moreover, Mona seemed to be submitting to a lecture, and the docile, affectionate smile on her face seemed strangely attractive to the neglected man. Every moment his irritation increased, and when at last--with Newcastle well in sight--Mona left Sir Douglas and began to talk caressingly to her aunt and Evelyn, the Sahib rose abruptly from his chair and strode away. Mona did not notice that he had gone. She liked him cordially, but, now that the moment of parting had come, her thoughts were fully occupied with her "own people." "You will let us know of your safe arrival, won't you?" said Lady Munro. "I suppose you will be too busy to write often during the winter, and I am afraid none of us are very great correspondents; but remember, we tryst you for next summer, if not before." "You can't possibly get beyond Edinburgh to-night," said Sir Douglas, stopping in front of them and looking at his watch.