He looked at her sufficient parasol and took her hand, turning her toward the road again.
"Come. We'll walk along to that grove. It is shady there. I want to see you before we meet the others."
She yielded, and presently they stepped in at the bars to the field where the grove invited. Under the trees she furled her parasol, and sat down on a stone. She looked involuntarily toward the plantation, below them to the west. There were the little clumps of nursery trees, the green patches of seedlings, and, dotted through the working area, men with backs bent over the rows. She wondered if Osmond were there, and the thought gave her, if not courage, at least the defiance that answers for it. MacLeod threw himself on the ground, and her eyes came back to him. He looked so strong, so much a part of all living things, that he seemed to her invincible. He spoke quite seriously, as if there were matters between them to be gravely settled.
"I have been wondering about the bearing of these people toward you. What explanation did you make when you came?"
"I made no explanation."
"What attitude did you take?"
"Peter introduced me to her. He went in advance, to tell her I was coming."
"Electra?"
"Yes, Tom's sister."
"What did Peter tell her?"