"In fact, I'm to operate partly under his personal directions.
We are old friends."
"I wonder when he will return?" dreamily said Johnstone, as if the
subject was growing annoying in its bold directness.
"I believe that he has a long leave--a furlough of a year," lightly
answered the Major. "In fact, I am to carry on some official matters
for him in his absence, but he is wary and non-committal."
"What is his English address?" abruptly said Johnstone, as they
bowed formally over their glasses.
"I do not know," frankly returned Hawke. "I am to send all reports
to headquarters in Calcutta."
"Are you going down there soon?" asked the old nabob, with a growing
uneasiness.
"Not unless I am sent for by the Viceroy," quietly said the Major,
with a listless air, gazing around admiringly on the magnificence
of the apartment.
"I will give you a letter to my nephew, Douglas Fraser, when you
do go," said Johnstone. "He is a fine youngster, and he will have
charge of all my Indian affairs, if I go home. He is in the P. and
O. office. I would like you to know him."
"I did not know that you had any family connection here," replied
the Major with a start of innocent surprise.
"Only this boy," hastily replied the incipient baronet, "and my
daughter. She is, however, a mere child--a mere child. I have seen
the leaves of the family tree wither and drop off one by one.
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