"Suppose you ride over yourself," retorted Leicester.
Bertie shook his head with sad significance.
"That wouldn't do," he said. "Do you think Lady Lackland would trust Ethel—I mean Lady Boisdale to me, even though Fitz was with her? No! You go over and she won't say no; but if I go the sun will be too hot, or the trip too much, or something."
"Yes, have your own way, obstinate," said Leicester, and so after breakfast he mounted his hunter and rode over to Coombe Lodge.
When Bertie got over to the Park he found that the captain had gone out on urgent business.
Mrs. Mildmay, when asked if she would take the trip, looked over to Violet, who gave a quiet affirmative, and Bertie, trusting Leicester had been similarly lucky in his embassage, bore the ladies off to the beach.
Bertie hailed the captain's boat, and before it had rowed from the yacht to the shore Lord Fitz's dogcart came rattling down the rural parade.
"Oh, I am so glad!" said Violet, as Ethel sprang lightly down. "I was so afraid you would not come."
When the gentlemen had skillfully assisted the ladies on deck a chorus of delighted admiration rewarded them.
"How beautiful," said Violet. "Why, I thought a ship was always dirty and in disorder. But this is as clean and neat as a lady's workbox."