"A fine landskip," he remarked.
Charles looked up half-angry. He disliked a man who suited his words to his own supposed tastes.
"It might be finer," he said shortly.
"Without a doubt," replied the other. "You'll pardon my ignorance, Mr. Lovely, but of what does the entertainment before us consist?"
Charles' face grew clear again at once—at any rate, the man did not claim omniscience.
"The entertainment, sir, is composed of fiddles and country dances enjoyed by the light of tallow-dips in an old barn. There will be some ploughboys, shepherds and farmers, with a few milkmaids and farm wenches, and the whole will resemble a painted Dutch interior."
"And you propose to join the merrymaking?"
"We do."
"It should be a diverting experience."
"I hope so indeed. My friend Clare vows he has discovered a Venus masquerading in fustian."