“Well, I’m not going to wait for him to get ready now,” replied his sister, who had sharp wits and did not disdain to give even her own family the benefit of them.
Then she gathered up the reins and whip in a most scientific manner, and they were off. Jack folded his arms. He was simply flooded, drenched, and saturated with joy. The evening before had been Elysium when she had only been his now and again for a minute’s conversation, but now she was to be his and his alone until—until they came back—and his mind seemed able to grasp no dearer outlines of the form which Bliss Incarnate may be supposed to take. He didn’t care where they went or what they saw or what they talked of, just if only he and she might be going, seeing, and talking for the benefit of one another and of one another alone.
They bowled away upon a firm, hard road that skirted the park, and then plunged deeply into the forest. Mrs. Rosscott handled the reins and the whip with the hands of an expert.
“I like to drive,” said she.
“You appear to,” he answered.
“I like to do everything,” she said. “I’m very athletic and energetic.”
“I’m glad of that,” he told her warmly. “I like athletic girls.”
He really thought that he was speaking the truth, although upon that first day if she had declared herself lazy and languid he would have found her equally to his taste—because it was the first day.
“That’s kind of you, after my speech,” she said smiling, “but let’s wait a bit before we begin to talk about me. Let us talk about you first—you’re the company, you know.”
“But there’s nothing to tell about me,” said Jack, “except that I’m always in difficulties—financial—or otherwise,—oftenest ‘otherwise,’ I must confess.”