'Madcap!' he said; 'but I suppose the first day of the holidays must be privileged. Ha! Fitzjocelyn, you're the right man in the right place, whatever Clara is.'
So they drove off, James sitting by Mrs. Ponsonby, and taking care to inform her that, in spite of her preposterous height, Clara was only sixteen, he began to ask anxious questions as to Fitzjocelyn's recovery, while she looked up at the pair in front, and thought, from the appearance of things, that even Louis's tongue was more than rivalled, for the newcomer seemed to say a sentence in the time he took in saying a word. Poor Mrs. Ponsonby! she would not have been happier had she known in which pair of hands the reins were!
'And Louis! how are you?' cried Clara, as soon as this point had been gained; 'are you able to walk?'
'After a fashion.'
'And does your ankle hurt you?'
'Only if I work it too hard. One would think that lounging had become a virtue instead of a vice, to hear the way I am treated.'
'You look—' began Clara. 'But oh, Louis!' cried she, in a sort of hesitating wonder, 'what! a moustache?'
'Don't say a word:' he lowered his voice. 'Riding is against orders, but I cannot miss the Yeomanry, under the present aspect of affairs.'
'The invasion! A man in the train was talking of the war steamers, but Jem laughed. Do you believe in it?'
'It is a time when a display of loyalty and national spirit may turn the scale. I am resolved to let no trifle prevent me from doing my part,' he said, colouring with enthusiasm.