they came to the fort that he, Atherly, was one of those government
chappies, and so awfully keen on Indian politics. "Friddy" had been
the first to find it out, but they thought she was chaffing. At which
"Friddy," who had suddenly resolved herself into the youthfulest of
schoolgirls in the presence of her brother, put her parasol like an
Indian club behind her back, and still rosy, beamed admiringly upon
Reggy. Then the three, Peter leading his horse, moved on towards the
fort, presently meeting "Georgy," the six-foot Guardsman cousin in
extraordinary tweeds and flannel shirt; Lord Runnybroke, uncle
of Friddy, middle-aged and flannel-shirted, a mighty hunter; Lady
Runnybroke, in a brown duster, but with a stately head that suggested
ostrich feathers; Moyler-Spence, M. P., with an eyeglass, and the Hon.
Evelyn Kayne, closely attended by the always gallant Lieutenant Forsyth.
Peter began to feel a nervous longing to be alone on the burning plain
and the empty horizon beyond them, until he could readjust himself to
these new conditions, and glanced half-wearily around him. But his eye
met Friddy's, who seemed to have evoked this gathering with a wave of
her parasol, like the fairy of a pantomime, and he walked on in silence.
A day or two of unexpected pleasure passed for Peter. In these new
surroundings he found he could separate Lady Elfrida from his miserable
past, and the conventional restraint of Ashley Grange. Again, the
revelation of her familiar name Friddy seemed to make her more
accessible and human to him than her formal title, and suited the
girlish simplicity that lay at the foundation of her character, of which
he had seen so little before. At least so he fancied, and so excused
himself; it was delightful to find her referring to him as an older
friend; pleasant, indeed, to see that her family tacitly recognized it,
and frequently appealed to him with the introduction, "Friddy says you
can tell us," or "You and Friddy had better arrange it between you."
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