Out in the street he paused for a moment.  A cab was already waiting, having dashed up from the club stand.

“By-the-way,” he said, “I shall not be able to come down and see the Minnie this time.  I shall be off by the eight o’clock train to-morrow morning.”

“Going foreign?” asked the captain.

“Yes, I am going abroad again,” answered Cartoner, and there was a sudden ring of exultation in his voice.  For this was after all, a man of action who had strayed into a profession of which the strength is to sit still.

XXVI

IN THE SPRING

The Mangles passed the winter at Warsaw, and there learned the usual lesson of the traveller:  that countries reputed hot or cold are neither so hot nor so cold as they are represented.  The winter was a hard one, and Warsaw, of all European cities, was, perhaps, the last that any lady would select to pass the cold months in.

“I have my orders,” said Mangles, rather grimly, “and I must stay here till I am moved on.  But the orders say nothing about you or Netty.  Go to Nice if you like.”

And Julie seemed half inclined to go southward.  But for one reason or another—­reasons, it may be, put forward by Netty in private conversation with her aunt—­the ladies lingered on.

“The place is dull for you,” said Mangles, “now that Cartoner seems to have left us for good.  His gay and sparkling conversation would enliven any circle.”

And beneath his shaggy brows he glanced at Netty, whose smooth cheek did not change color, while her eyes met his with an affectionate smile.

“You seemed to have plenty to say to each other coming across the Atlantic,” she said.  “I always found you with your heads close together whenever I came on deck.”

“Don’t think we sparkled much,” said Joseph, with his under lip well forward.

“It is very kind of Uncle Joseph,” said Netty, afterwards, to Miss Mangles, “to suggest that we should go south, and, of course, it would be lovely to feel the sunshine again, but we could not leave him, could we?  You must not think of me, auntie; I am quite happy here, and should not enjoy the Riviera at all if we left uncle all alone here.”

Julie had a strict sense of duty, which, perhaps, Netty was cognizant of; and the subject was never really brought under discussion.  During a particularly bad spell of weather Mr. Mangles again and again suggested that he should be left at Warsaw, but on each occasion Netty came forward with that complete unselfishness and sweet forethought for others which all who knew her learned to look for in her every action.