“It is all the more delicious, Miss Ruth, because I have it from your own gracious hand, and because it is probably the last I shall drink for many months.”
She gazed at him wonderingly.
“You know I am firm in my convictions as to what is right and just, and I have decided to quit drinking tea as a protest against what the king and Lord North are preparing to do. So this will be a memorial day for me. Pardon me, I did not mean to allude to it.”
“One need not beg pardon for having a conviction of what is right and just. If it is to be your last cup I’m glad I have the privilege of serving it,” she said.
One by one guests joined them, charmed by her presence, Major Evelyn hovering around her. More than once the eyes of Robert and Miss Newville met. Would she not think him rude? But how could he help looking at her?
While Miss Newville was serving other guests, with Berinthia and Miss Shrimpton Robert walked the garden once more, the great shaggy watch-dog trotting in advance, as if they were guests to be honored by an escort.
The afternoon was waning. Guests were leaving, and it was time for Berinthia and Robert to take their departure.
“Oh, you are not going now. I have not had an opportunity to speak a dozen words with you, Berinthia, and I have shamefully neglected Mr. Walden. I have not had a chance to drink a cup of tea with him. I am sure you will excuse me, Major Evelyn, while I redeem myself. You will find Miss Brandon delightful company,” said Miss Newville.
Major Evelyn, being thus politely waved one side, could but acquiesce.