"Why, of course! I thought it was all settled. The general sent some hours ago to say he proposed to pay his respect to the Governor. You cannot help yourself now."
"Oh! the general," remarked Mrs. Wilders, as she was generally styled—the title Countess was only used by intimate friends—in a tone that implied she was not at all bound by her husband's plans.
"Where is the good man just now?" inquired Lord Lydstone, in much the same tone.
"There, forward," said Mrs. Wilders, pointing to the part of the deck beyond the awning. "Trying to get a sunstroke by walking about with his head bare."
"He does that on principle, Countess, don't you know. He wants to harden his cranium, in case he loses his hat some day in action."
"I hope he may never go into action. If he does, I should be sorry for his men."
"Not for him?"
"That may be taken for granted," she replied, in a matter-of-fact way.
"How fond you are of him! What devoted affection! It's lucky you have little to spare!"
"I keep it for the proper person."