“Dear me, what of that?”
“Why, that was brave Colonel Guy St. John, the Cavalier, the pride and boast of Sir Miles; you know his weakness. He looked so displeased when you said, ‘What a droll-looking figure!’ I was on thorns for you!”
“What a pity! I would not offend dear Sir Miles for the world.”
“Well, it’s easy to make it up with him. Go and tell him that he must take you to see Guy’s Oak, in the dell; that you have heard so much about it; and when you get him on his hobby, it is hard if you can’t make your peace.”
“Oh, I’ll certainly do it, Master Varney;” and the young lady lost no time in obeying the hint. Gabriel had set other tongues on the same cry, so that there was a general exclamation when the girl named the subject,—“Oh, Guy’s Oak, by all means!”
Much pleased with the enthusiasm this memorial of his pet ancestor produced, Sir Miles led the way to the dell, and pausing as he reached the verge, said,—
“I fear I cannot do you the honours; it is too steep for my chair to descend safely.”
Gabriel whispered the fair companion whose side he still kept to.
“Now, my dear Sir Miles,” cried the girl, “I positively won’t stir without you; I am sure we could get down the chair without a jolt. Look there, how nicely the ground slopes! Jane, Lucy, my dears, let us take charge of Sir Miles. Now, then.”
The gallant old gentleman would have marched to the breach in such guidance; he kissed the fair hands that lay so temptingly on his chair, and then, rising with some difficulty, said,—