“Not an instant; she never requires a minute to decide on what to do. Follow me, now, along this path, and I 'll place you in your ambush. You 'll not leave it till I come.”
“What a lovely spot this seems; it beats Castello hollow!”
“So we say every day. We all declare we 'd like to pass our lives here.”
“Let me be one of the party, and I 'll say nothing against the project,” said Jack, as he brushed through a hedge of sweet-brier, and descended a little slope, at the foot of which a shady summer-house stood guardian over a well. “Remember, now,” cried he, “not to tax my patience too far. I 'll give you ten minutes, but I won't wait twenty.”
L'Estrange lost no time in hastening back to the house. Julia, he heard, was giving orders about the room for the stranger, and he found her actively engaged in the preparation. “For whom am I taking all this trouble, George?” said she, as he entered.
“Guess, Julia, guess! Whom would you say was best worth it?”
“Not Mr. Cutbill—whom Nelly fixed on—not Sir Marcus Cluff, whose name occurred to myself, nor even the Pretender, Count Pracontal; and now I believe I have exhausted the category of possible guests.”
“Not any of these,” said he, drawing her to his side. “Where is Nelly?”
“She went down to gather some roses.”
“Not in the lower garden, I hope,” cried he, eagerly.