‘Oh, mamma, there you are!’ and Lucy joined them as they emerged on the bowling-green, where stood the two bright targets, and the groups of archers, whose shafts, for the most part, flew far and wide.
‘Where are the rest, my dear? are they shooting?’
‘Yes; Gilbert has been teaching Genevieve—there, she is shooting now.’
The little light figure stood in advance. Gilbert held her arrows, and another gentleman appeared to be counselling her. There seemed to be general exultation when one of her arrows touched the white ring outside the target.
‘That has been her best shot,’ said Lucy. ‘I am sure I would not shoot in public unless I knew how!’
‘Do you not like shooting?’ asked Captain Ferrars; and Lucy smiled, and lost her discontented air.
‘It hurts my fingers, she said; ‘and I have always so much to do in the garden.’
Albinia asked if she had had anything to eat.
‘Oh, yes; the Colonel asked Gilbert to carve in the tent there, for the children and governesses,’ said Lucy, ‘he and Genevieve were very busy there, but I found I was not of much use so, I came away with the Miss Bartons to look at the flowers, but now they are shooting, and I could not think what had become of you.’
And Lucy bestowed her company on Albinia and the Captain, reducing him to dashing, disconnected talk, till they met Mr. Kendal, searching for them in the same fear that they were starving, and anxious to introduce his wife to his Indian friends. When at the end of the path, Albinia looked round, the Lancer had disappeared, and Lucy was walking by her father, trying to look serenely amused by a discussion on the annexation of the Punjaub.