"Do you object to a short walk? It is not far," said Colonel Erskine. "That's right. Then Miss Tracy and Dolly will go in the pony-carriage. The trunks are all right. A porter will bring them presently. This way."
Dolly did not approve of the arrangement. She shrank from being alone with Dorothea; yet it was manifestly a good plan. The two old friends might well wish for a few minutes together, after their long estrangement. Whether Colonel Tracy desired it, might indeed be a matter for doubt, though he offered no protest; but Colonel Erskine's face showed unmitigated pleasure, and Dolly submitted.
"Take the lower road, Fred," were her father's parting words to the boy. Dolly had meant to give a contrary order. The "lower road" was less steep, but much longer than the more direct route, and she did not care for a lengthened tête-à-tête. However, it had to be. Jack, the plump pony, trotted leisurely off along the village street, and the two Colonels turned up a side lane.
"Craye seems a very pretty place," said Dorothea.
"Yes—I suppose it is."
"And you have lived here a long while?"
"Yes; ever since I was quite little."
"It must be nice to have a settled home."
"Yes," Dolly answered dreamily.
"I wonder," Dorothea said, after a break, "I wonder whether you care half as much about seeing me as I do about seeing you."