"I feel quite agricultural," said Vaura, laughing, as they joined Lady
Esmondet, who was talking to a Government attache, from London. "Mr.
Douglas calls me a mowing machine."
Here, Mr. Bertram came forward to shake hands with Vaura.
"I was beginning to think you would not cross to-day, Vaura," said
Lady Esmondet. "Sir Tilton seemed unable to tear himself away."
"It's getting too much for my feelings, Vaura," said Douglas, in serio-comic tones; "tares again."
"What's the joke?" asked Bertram; "the fellow had a green and yellow melancholy look about him, I noticed."
"Again! pile on the agony, tares and wheat are green and yellow."
"Tares and wheat," remarked Bertram. "If that's your text, Douglas, I shall tear myself away, and pace the deck alone, if Lady Esmondet, or Miss Vernon, won't take pity on me; I don't care for sermons, nor to be classed with the tares. Who is the mannikin, Douglas," continued Bertram.
"What's his name, and where's his hame; she dinna choose to tell," said Douglas.
"You are a greater tease than ever, Roland; I did tell you, but on the way you lost it; but now again give ear—"
"Not only mine ear," he interrupted, "but my whole being, fairest of
Surrey enslavers."