Catherine was about to toss the note to Mabel, when a hand was put quietly over her shoulder, and Mrs. Bertram took Loftus’s letter to read.

“Mother, I didn’t know you were down.”

“I just came in, my dear, and heard you speaking to Mabel.  What is this?”

She stood still to read the brief lines: 

  “Dearest Sis,—­I have had a sudden recall to Portsmouth.  Will
  write from there.  Love to the mother and Mab.—­Your affectionate
  brother,

  “Loftus.”

Mrs. Bertram looked up with a very startled expression in her eyes.

“Now, mother, there’s nothing to fret you in this,” said Kate, eagerly.  “Was not Loftie always the most changeable of mortals?”

“Yes, my dear, but not quite so changeable as not to know anything at all about a recall in the afternoon yesterday, and to have to leave us before we are out of bed in the morning.  Did anybody see Loftus go?  Had he any breakfast?”

Catherine flew away to inquire of Clara, and Mabel said in an injured voice: 

“I dare say Loftie had a telegram sent to him to the club.  Anyhow, he has all the excitement and all the pleasure.  I watched him through the spy-glass last night.  He was in the Bells’ boat, and Beatrice was all alone in hers.  Beatrice was talking to Loftus and the boats were almost touching.  Mother, I wish we could have a boat.”

“Yes, dear, I must try and manage it for you at some future time.  Well, Catherine, have you heard anything?”

“No, mother.  Loftus must have gone away very, very early.  No one saw him go; he certainly had no breakfast.”

Mrs. Bertram was silent for a few moments; then, suppressing a sigh, she said, in a would-be cheerful tone: 

“Well, my loves, we must enjoy our breakfasts, even without the recreant Loftus.  Mabel, my dear, what delicious raspberries!  They give me quite an appetite.”

“Kitty picked them for you, mother,” said Mabel.  “She has been treasuring a special bush for you for a week past.”

Mrs. Bertram looked up at her eldest daughter and smiled at her.  That smile, very much treasured by Kate, was after all but a poor attempt, gone as soon as it came.  Mrs. Bertram leant back in her chair and toyed with the dainty fruit.  Her appetite was little more than a mockery.

“It was very thoughtful of Loftus not to waken any one up to give him breakfast,” said Catherine.

Her mother again glanced at her with a shadow of approval on her worn face.  Artful Kitty had made this speech on purpose; she knew that any praise of Loftus was balm to her mother.

After breakfast Mrs. Bertram showed rather unwonted interest in her daughters’ plans.

“It is such a lovely day I should like you to go on the water,” she said.  “At the same time, I must not think of hiring a boat this summer.”

“Are we so frightfully poor, mother?” asked Mab.