“Yes, Mr. Ashbrook did not think I could bear any further fatigue, and he advised me to return.”
“Oh, well, I hope you are better for your walk, sir, but I fear that our early hours and rough fare do not agree with you.”
“It is not that which prevents me from sleeping,” he murmured, in a low plaintive voice—“not that,” he replied.
“Oh, indeed!” She glanced at him curiously, and saw something in his look which made her avert her eyes.
There was a pause. Presently the farmer’s wife said—
“Oh, I dare say you’ll be glad when you get back to London.”
“Indeed, I shall not,” he returned quickly. “I don’t care about the metropolis now, and shouldn’t be sorry if I never saw it again.”
“Why, Mr. Fortescue, what can you be thinking about to say such a thing? You would never be able to submit to the humdrum of a country life.”
“I should if I were near you,” he answered.
Her face wore a puzzled expression.