"No.

Go and rest!" He was gone with the words, striding swiftly down the path.

As he passed out on to the road, he broke into a run.

She stood and listened to his receding footsteps with foreboding in her heart.
"Tea is ready, my _mem-sahib_" said Peter softly behind her.
She thanked him with a smile and went in.
He followed her and waited upon her with all a woman's solicitude.
For a while she suffered him in silence, then suddenly, "Peter," she said, "what was the messenger like ?" Peter hesitated momentarily.

Then, "He was old, _mem-sahib_," he said, "old and ragged, not worthy of your august consideration." She turned in her chair.