No more words were spoken till they reached Richmond. Jem was in no haste to justify himself. Jean mutely followed his lead off the steamer, across the landing-place, and through the town to the Park gates. Then Jem paused to ask—Should they lounge under the trees, or walk to the White Lodge?
"Walk, please!" Jean answered promptly.
Jem smiled to himself, reading her wish to evade further questions. He did not mean to let her off; but there was no harm in delay; and for the next hour or more they discussed literature, eschewing personal matters.
"Jean, we have been at it a good while now! Do you ever cry 'Enough'?"
"Enough walking? No, I am not tired. But perhaps you are."
"There's a little snuggery under the trees yonder—pretty view, and nobody at hand. You don't feel the least wish to sit down."
"I could go on any amount, but most people can't," said Jean, with reluctant acquiescence.
Jem was content. He led the way to the "snuggery," spread Jean's light cloak for her to sit on, and threw himself down, as if not sorry to rest. Some measure of fatigue might be excusable on so hot a day for two such rapid walkers. They had not only viewed the White Lodge, but had taken a wide détour on their return, getting within twenty minutes of the Park entrance before Jem proposed a halt. Jean looked fresh and cool, as if she had just started.
"We must allow ourselves time to get a cup of tea on our way to the steamer," Jem remarked, pulling out his watch. "No, of course—not necessary. You are above bodily needs! But they exist in other people."
Then he replaced the watch, and asked, "Desperately disappointed in me, Jean?"