"But I shouldn't like you even to think of such a thing, for my sake, if you haven't plenty of money—if you can't perfectly well afford it. I never thought about that."
"Well, well, my dear, we'll see," reiterated the Colonel.
"Wouldn't you like to rest a little?" asked Dorothea, as they came upon an unoccupied seat.
Colonel Tracy agreed, but with an evident determination not to be catechised. One minute had not elapsed before he was nodding sleepily over his stick. Dorothea smiled, and turned her attention to other people.
This being a quiet side-path, there were no crowds, though a good many pedestrians came and went. The feigned sleep presently became genuine. Perhaps the Colonel really was tired; at all events, he showed no signs of an early awakening. Slight snores sounded, winning amused looks from those who were near. Dorothea did not think it mattered, or count herself obliged to rouse him.
Another snore: and a gentleman turned to glance in their direction. Immediately his hat came off, and Dorothea, having already noted a familiar outline, bowed. She took him for Edred Claughton, and was surprised at that busy young man having any leisure for the frivolities of the Park; but as he came across the path, she recognised the older brother.
"How do you do? So you are getting into swing," Mervyn said, as they shook hands; and the gleam of fun came which Dorothea always missed in Edred. "Have you found out yet what it is to have no time for anything or anybody? You see, I have not forgotten our last talk."
"Or Miss Henniker," added Dorothea. "My father," she said, indicating the sleeper. "He seems tired."
"Hot day," Mervyn answered, taking the empty seat on her other side. "So you don't find yourself in a whirlpool of engagements?"
"No, indeed. My only engagements are Church and Sunday-school, and teachers' meeting."