“Yes; I am going to inspect the paddock, and told Giles to meet me there.”
“What's the use of our going without Tony?” said she, disconsolately; “he's the only one of us knows anything about a colt.”
“I really did hope you were beginning to learn that this young gentleman was not an essential of our daily life here,” said Lady Lyle, haughtily. “I am sorry that I should have deceived myself.”
“My dear mamma, please to remember your own ponies that have become undrivable, and Selim, that can't even be saddled. Gregg will tell you that he does n't know what has come over the melon-bed,—the plants look all scorched and withered; and it was only yesterday papa said that he 'd have the schooner drawn up till Tony came back to decide on the new keel and the balloon jib!”
“What a picture of us to present to Mr. Maitland! but I trust, sir, that you know something of my daughter's talent for exaggerated description by this time, and you will not set us down for the incapables she would exhibit us.” Lady Lyle moved haughtily away as she spoke; and Sir Arthur, drawing Mrs. Trafford's arm within his own, said, “You 're in a fighting mood to-day. Come over and torment Giles.”
“There 's nothing I like better,” said she. “Let me go for my hat and a shawl.”
“And I'm off to my letter-writing,” said Maitland.
CHAPTER XVII. AT THE COTTAGE
What a calm, still, mellow evening it was, as Tony sat with his mother in the doorway of the cottage, their hands clasped, and in silence, each very full of thought, indeed, but still fuller of that sweet luxury, the sense of being together after an absence,—the feeling that home was once more home, in all that can make it a centre of love and affection.