She ignored the chair Seddon placed for her, turning to the boy called Toby with great resolution.

“Those lamp-shades, Mr. Carey,” she said.  “I’m sorry I’m so late.  You must have thought I was never coming.  In fact”—­the colour was returning to her face, and her smile became more natural—­“I thought so myself a few minutes ago.  Let us set to work at once!”

Toby burst into a rude whoop of admiration and flung a ball of string into the air.

“Miss Eversley, well done!  Well done!” he gasped.  “You—­you deserve a V.C.!”

“Indeed I don’t,” she returned.  “I have been running away hard.”

“Tell us all about it, Miss Eversley!” urged one of her listeners.  “You have been across the Frontier, now, haven’t you?  What happened?  Someone tried to snipe you from afar?”

But Miss Eversley refused to be communicative.  “I am much too busy,” she said, “to discuss anything so unimportant.  Come, Mr. Carey, the lamp-shades!”

Toby bore her off in triumph to inspect his works of art.  There was a good deal of understanding in Toby’s head despite its curls which he kept so resolutely cropped.  He attended to business without a hint of surprise or inattention.  And he was presently rewarded for his good behaviour.

Averil, raising her eyes for a moment from one of the shades which she was tacking together while he held it in shape, said presently: 

“A very peculiar thing happened to me this morning, Mr. Carey.”

“Yes?” he replied, trying to keep the note of expectancy out of his voice.

Averil nodded gravely.  “I crossed the Frontier,” she said, “and rode into the mountains.  I thought I heard a child crying.  I lost my way and fell among thieves.”

“Yes?” said Toby again.  He looked up, frankly interested this time.

“I was shot at,” she resumed.  “It was my own fault, of course.  I shouldn’t have gone.  My brother-in-law warned me very seriously against going an inch beyond the Frontier only last night.  Well, one buys one’s experience.  I certainly shall never go again, not for a hundred wailing babies.”

“Probably a bird,” remarked Toby practically.

“Probably,” assented Averil, equally practical.  “To continue:  I didn’t know what to do.  I was horribly frightened.  I had lost my bearings.  And then out of the very midst of my enemies there came a friend.”

“Ah!” said Toby quickly.  “The right sort?”

“There is only one sort,” she said, with a touch of dignity.

“And what did he do?” said Toby, with eager interest.

“He simply took my bridle and ran by my side till we were out of danger,” Averil said, a sudden soft glow creeping up over her face.

Toby looked at her very seriously.  “In native rig, I suppose?” he said.

“Yes,” said Averil.

“Carlyon of the Frontier,” said Toby, with abrupt decision.

She nodded.  “I did not know he had left England,” she said.