Alec whistled.
“You’re going?” Blue Bonnet asked.
“I was; it’s a pretty ride—a bit rough at the last.”
Blue Bonnet turned, an expression in her eyes that Alec could not understand. He was leaning a little forward, a flush on his thin, eager face.
“I reckon you’re not afraid of—anything, Alec?” she asked.
Alec half laughed. “Yes, I am—of not being able to do all I want to. It’s a beastly bore—not being up to things.”
“Yes,” Blue Bonnet said slowly, thinking that there were worse things than that even. “Here comes General Trent,” she added. Blue Bonnet liked the General, liked the old-fashioned courtesy of his manner towards her.
“How are you to-day, Miss Elizabeth?” he asked now, taking the chair Alec offered.
“Oh, I’m always well,” she answered, and regretted her words the moment she had said them.
“And you are getting too fond of Woodford ever to leave it?”