"So he was, upon my honour," said Varbarriere, gravely.
"He did not mean it, though," simpered Miss Blunket, "if _you_ can't--_I_'ll try to induce him to show them to you; they are----Oh! here is Beatrix."
"How is your papa now, Mademoiselle?" asked Varbarriere, anxious to escape.
"Just as he was, I think, a little low, the Doctor says."
"Ah!" said Varbarriere, and still his dark eyes looked on hers with grave inquiry.
"He always _is_ low for a day or two; but he says this will be nothing. He almost hopes to be down this evening."
"Ah! Yes. That's very well," commented Varbarriere, with pauses between, and his steady, clouded gaze unchanged.
"We are going to the garden; are you ready, darling?" said she to Miss Blunket.
"Oh, quite," and she skipped to the door, smiling this way and that, as she stood in the sun on the step. "Sweet day," and she looked back on Beatrix and the invitation, glanced slightly on Drayton, who looked loweringly after them unmoved, and thought--
"Why the plague does she spoil her walks with that frightful old humbug? There's no escaping that creature."
We have only conjecture as to which of the young ladies, now running down the steps, Mr. Drayton's pronouns referred to.
"You fish to-day?" asked Varbarriere, on whose hands time dragged strangely.
"We were thinking of going down to that pretty place Gryston. Linnett was there on Saturday morning. It was Linnett's trout you thought so good at luncheon."
And with such agreeable conversation they loitered a little at the door, and suddenly, with quick steps, there approached, and passed them by, an apparition.
It was old General Lennox. He had been walking in the park--about the grounds--he knew not where, since daybreak. Awfully stern he looked, fatigued, draggled he well might be, gloveless, one hand in his pocket, the other clenched on his thumb like a child's in a convulsion. His thoughts were set on something remote, for he brushed by the gentlemen, and not till he had passed did he seem to hear Drayton's cheery salutation, and stopping and turning towards them suddenly, he said, very grimly--
"Nothing, General, only wishing you good-morning," answered Drayton.
"Yes, charming morning. I've been walking. I've been out--a--thank you," and that lead-coloured and white General vanished like a wicked ghost.