Stella went and looked over his shoulder.
"Yes, uncle," she said.
"You have been long enough to make twenty indigestible compounds," he said, gazing at the view he was sketching.
Stella bent her head, to hide the blush which rose as she remembered how slowly they had walked across the meadows.
"How are you getting on?" said Lord Leycester.
The old man grunted.
"Pretty well; better than I shall now you have come to fidget about."
Lord Leycester laughed.
"A pretty plain hint that our room is desired more than our company, Miss Etheridge. Can we not vanish into space?"
Stella laughed and sank down on the grass.