"I've never done such a thing in my life before; and now he'll never let me forget it. I was a fool, I own I was, but—I was thinking too much."
She hesitated, and Randolph, not liking the drop in her voice, said cheerfully:
"How long shall we give ourselves for getting round?"
"Four miles an hour. In an hour and a half we shall be walking up the drive. Oh, yes, I feel you have no faith in my walking powers, but when I wind myself up I'm equal to any man—and the difficulty is to stop. When I'm thoroughly in it, I feel I could walk on for ever."
She walked as if she liked it; her feet hardly seemed to touch the ground, her tread was so light and springy.
"What a pity you don't smoke!" Randolph said. "Would you object to my pipe?"
"Of course not. Dad is old-fashioned; I think I am too. I never could take to it. I assure you I'm a century behind most contemporaries of mine."
Randolph did not respond.
She went on:
"It's an advantage in one way. I don't get sick longings for an active independent life. I'm too pleased with myself and my surroundings. Don't you think I'm a very self-satisfied creature? Aunt Dannie says I am."