“All right,” replied Geoffrey, rather huffed. “Imagination is no doubt better than reality in this particular instance. I always knew if anyone could manage you, or get you along at all in double harness, it was our right honourable friend. But you must confess you jibbed frightfully at starting. Plenty of the whip, that’s what you all want.
‘A woman, a dog, and a walnut-tree,
The more you beat them the better they be.’
Isn’t that so?”
“Geoffrey!” exclaimed Alice, “have you taken leave of your senses! If people were to see you whooping and springing about they would certainly think we kept a private lunatic asylum, and that you were one of our most dangerous patients. Do be cautious, the moon is at the full!”
Reginald having started off to fetch the pears, Geoffrey watched him out of sight, and then said: “Alice, my good girl, seriously and soberly, I never was so glad of anything in all my life. He is the best fellow I ever knew, and ten times too good for you.”
“No one knows that better than myself,” she replied meekly, to Geoffrey’s unbounded surprise.
“Good-night, Geoff; I’m going. Tell him to tell them; I couldn’t,” she added, vanishing through the gateway.
“Alice has gone, Rex,” said Geoffrey, “and you are to break it gently to the family. No one could eat pears now: leave them on the garden-seat and come along. You and Alice are the only pair they will think of to-night.”
In a few minutes they had rejoined the party in the pleasure-ground.