“Well, it won’t take you long to get on your legs again,” said Mervyn, looking admiringly at the perfect picture she presented. “What shall we do with you to-day? Go for a long drive—or what? Well, I don’t know. The old shandradan I brought you here in isn’t too snug for a convalescing invalid, and it’s the best I’ve got. But first we’ll have breakfast.” And he hailed Judy, with an order to hurry on that repast.
“Oh, that be hanged for a yarn, Uncle Seward. I’m not a convalescing anything. I’ve convalesced already, in this splendid air and surroundings. Let’s go out somewhere. Do let’s.”
She had clasped both hands round his arm and the blue eyes were sparkling with anticipation.
“All right. You shall be Queen of the May, to-day at any rate. But I think we mustn’t overdo it at the start. We’ll lunch early, and then start on a rambling round of exploration—equipped with plenty of wraps.”
“And we may get another ripping sunset like yesterday,” she exclaimed.
“You are extraordinarily fond of Nature’s effects, child. What else appeals to you?”
“Old stones?”
“What?”
“Old stones. Ruined castles—churches—Roman remains—everything of that kind.”
Mervyn emitted a long and expressive whistle.