"Why?"
"It's all nonsense!" interposed Bob decisively; "we can't go for a week. The match is fixed for next Wednesday."
"But," said Claudia, "I'm not going to play."
"I am," said Bob. "And where do you propose to go to?"
"No, Lady Claudia," said Eugene, "you must see us through the great day. I really wish you would. The whole county's coming, and it will be too much for my mother alone. After the cricket-match, if you still insist, the deluge!"
"I'll ask Mrs. Lane. She'll tell me what to do."
"Good child!" said Sir Roderick. "I am going to stay right away till the birds. And as Lane says I ain't to have any birds unless I field at long-leg, I am going to field at long-leg."
"Splendid!" cried Claudia, clapping her hands; "Sir Roderick Ayre at a rustic cricket-match! Mr. Morewood shall sketch you."
"I've had enough of sketching just now," said Morewood. Ayre and Eugene looked up. Morewood nodded slightly.
"Where's Stafford?" asked Ayre.