Evelyn's fears seemed almost to have departed, and she smiled at Jean's precautions.
"My dear, there is no need. I never take cold," she said. "But you shall do as you like. How good your father is to let me go! Nothing is so dreadful as to sit still, doing nothing, when one is anxious. Jean, ask Mr. Trevelyan whether we ought not to take a little flask of brandy? My husband might need something of the sort."
Mr. Trevelyan had thought of this already. Adams, the head-gardener, was waiting, and in three minutes, they sallied forth.
[CHAPTER VIII.]
ON THE MARSHES.
First Br. "List, list! I hear
Some far-off halloo break the silent air."
Sec. Br. "Methought so too: what should it be?"
MILTON.
EVELYN was strung up to a condition of mind which would admit of no difficulties, which for the moment, could scarcely be conscious of fatigue. The cold blast came sideways, happily not facing them direct; and though very strong, it was not quite so biting as an hour earlier.
"We shall have a quick thaw," Mr. Trevelyan said tersely, noting the difference.
In a general way, Evelyn would have found advance not easy, but now, though she gratefully accepted his offered arm, she seemed scarcely to notice the wind. Mr. Trevelyan was firm as a rock against the roughest blasts; and Jean sprang ahead with a light step of positive enjoyment.
For awhile they followed the high road; but presently a gate led into a large meadow; and beyond this meadow were the flat low-lying marshes, clothed like all else in a robe of virgin white.