On stepping to the door of the carriage, Capt. Trevalyon offered his seat to his friend.
"Not so; we cannot spare you," cried Mrs. Tompkins. "I should have all these ladies as cross as bears, Sir Peter non est and you away; no, the Colonel is gallant enough to leave you to us; he will have so much of some one a week from yesterday."
"No help for it, I suppose," said the victim, ruefully eyeing Everly seated comfortably between the strawberries, the stranger having vacated his seat for another coach. Everly was blind and deaf to the Colonel's wish, taking his cue from his neighbour's, who had said in an undertone:
"Don't stir, we are afraid of him, and you are so agreeable and nice."
And the guard locked the door, saying respectfully:
"No help for it, sir, I'll find you a seat."
CHAPTER VI.
LOVE AND LOVE-MAKING.
"This just too lovely; you are not going to weep over the exit of the
Colonel?" said Mrs. Tompkins rapturously.
And the sleeve of her jersey brushed Trevalyon's arm as she whispered above, glancing sideways.