"All right," said Tony. "But I can't very well play the hereditary legislator and all that if you insist upon keeping me down in the country."
"When does Parliament reassemble?" she asked.
"Oh, I don't know. Some time in the autumn, I suppose."
"Very well, then, we'll go up to town on one condition, which is that you will make a speech. If you haven't spoken within a week of the opening I shall come back here."
Tony, in order to get away from Devonshire, was ready to promise anything, but at the end of October, on a day also memorable in the history of Clare for the largest battue ever held in those coverts, Dorothy told her husband that she was going to have a baby.
He flushed with the slaughter of hundreds of birds, she flushed with what all this meant to her and him and England, faced each other in the bridal chamber of Clare that itself was flushed with a crimson October sunset.
"Tony, aren't you wildly happy?"
"Why, yes ... of course I am ... only, Doodles, I suppose this means you won't go up to town? Oh well, never mind. Gad! you look glorious this evening." He put his arms round her and kissed her.
"Not that way," she murmured. "Not that way now."