"It is uncle's way of begging us to stay," she said.
Lord Leycester laughed, and sending the dogs off, flung himself down almost at her feet.
"Did I exaggerate?" he said, pointing his whip at the view.
"Not an atom," replied Stella. "It is beautiful—beautiful, and that is all that one can find to say."
"I wish you would be content to say it and not insist upon my painting it," replied Mr. Etheridge.
Lord Leycester sprang to his feet.
"That is the last straw. We will not remain to be abused, Miss Etheridge," he said.
Stella remained immovable. He came and stood over her, looking down at her with wistful eagerness in silence.
"What lovely woods," she said. "You were right; they are carpeted with primroses. We have none in our meadow."