Then the lecture ended, and questions were asked, and individuals of the company wandered at will, the light dresses of the ladies sweeping over the hot grass and brushing up thistledown which had hitherto lain quiescent, so that it rose in a flight from the skirts of each like a comet's tail.
Some of Lord Mountclere's party, including himself and Ethelberta, wandered now into a cool dungeon, partly open to the air overhead, where long arms of ivy hung between their eyes and the white sky.
While they were here, Lady Jane Joy and some other friends of the viscount told Ethelberta that they were probably coming on to Knollsea.
She instantly perceived that getting into close quarters in that way might be very inconvenient, considering the youngsters she had under her charge, and straightway decided upon a point that she had debated for several days--a visit to her aunt in Normandy. In London it had been a mere thought, but the Channel had looked so tempting from its brink that the journey was virtually fixed as soon as she reached Knollsea, and found that a little pleasure steamer crossed to Cherbourg once a week during the summer, so that she would not have to enter the crowded routes at all.
'I am afraid I shall not see you in Knollsea,' she said. 'I am about to go to Cherbourg and then to Rouen.'
'How sorry I am. When do you leave?'
'At the beginning of next week,' said Ethelberta, settling the time there and then.
'Did I hear you say that you were going to Cherbourg and Rouen?'
Lord Mountclere inquired.
'I think to do so,' said Ethelberta.
'I am going to Normandy myself,' said a voice behind her, and without turning she knew that Neigh was standing there.
They next went outside, and Lord Mountclere offered Ethelberta his arm on the ground of assisting her down the burnished grass slope.
Ethelberta, taking pity upon him, took it; but the assistance was all on her side; she stood like a statue amid his slips and totterings, some of which taxed her strength heavily, and her ingenuity more, to appear as the supported and not the supporter.
The incident brought Neigh still further from his retirement, and she learnt that he was one of a yachting party which had put in at Knollsea that morning; she was greatly relieved to find that he was just now on his way to London, whence he would probably proceed on his journey abroad.
Ethelberta adhered as well as she could to her resolve that Neigh should not speak with her alone, but by dint of perseverance he did manage to address her without being overheard.
'Will you give me an answer?' said Neigh. 'I have come on purpose.'
'I cannot just now. I have been led to doubt you.'
'Doubt me? What new wrong have I done?'
'Spoken jestingly of my visit to Farnfield.'
'Good ---! I did not speak or think of you. When I told that incident I had no idea who the lady was--I did not know it was you till two days later, and I at once held my tongue. I vow to you upon my soul and life that what I say is true. How shall I prove my truth better than by my errand here?'
'Don't speak of this now. I am so occupied with other things. I am going to Rouen, and will think of it on my way.'
'I am going there too. When do you go?'
'I shall be in Rouen next Wednesday, I hope.'
'May I ask where?'
'Hotel Beau Sejour.'
'Will you give me an answer there? I can easily call upon you. It is now a month and more since you first led me to hope--'
'I did not lead you to hope--at any rate clearly.'
'Indirectly you did. And although I am willing to be as considerate as any man ought to be in giving you time to think over the question, there is a limit to my patience. Any necessary delay Iwill put up with, but I won't be trifled with. I hate all nonsense, and can't stand it.'
'Indeed. Good morning.'
'But Mrs. Petherwin--just one word.'
'I have nothing to say.'
'I will meet you at Rouen for an answer. I would meet you in Hades for the matter of that. Remember this: next Wednesday, if I live, I shall call upon you at Rouen.'
She did not say nay.
'May I?' he added.
'If you will.'
'But say it shall be an appointment?'
'Very well.'
Lord Mountclere was by this time toddling towards them to ask if they would come on to his house, Enckworth Court, not very far distant, to lunch with the rest of the party. Neigh, having already arranged to go on to town that afternoon, was obliged to decline, and Ethelberta thought fit to do the same, idly asking Lord Mountclere if Enckworth Court lay in the direction of a gorge that was visible where they stood.
'No; considerably to the left,' he said. 'The opening you are looking at would reveal the sea if it were not for the trees that block the way. Ah, those trees have a history; they are half-a-dozen elms which I planted myself when I was a boy. How time flies!'
'It is unfortunate they stand just so as to cover the blue bit of sea. That addition would double the value of the view from here.'
'You would prefer the blue sea to the trees?'
'In that particular spot I should; they might have looked just as well, and yet have hidden nothing worth seeing. The narrow slit would have been invaluable there.'
'They shall fall before the sun sets, in deference to your opinion,' said Lord Mountclere.
'That would be rash indeed,' said Ethelberta, laughing, 'when my opinion on such a point may be worth nothing whatever.'
'Where no other is acted upon, it is practically the universal one,' he replied gaily.
And then Ethelberta's elderly admirer bade her adieu, and away the whole party drove in a long train over the hills towards the valley wherein stood Enckworth Court. Ethelberta's carriage was supposed by her friends to have been left at the village inn, as were many others, and her retiring from view on foot attracted no notice.
She watched them out of sight, and she also saw the rest depart--those who, their interest in archaeology having begun and ended with this spot, had, like herself, declined the hospitable viscount's invitation, and started to drive or walk at once home again.
