"Yes, Margaret, this time I am," said Garda's undisturbed voice.
Mrs. Spenser waited a moment. Then she rose. "We will all go," she said, with a good deal of dignity; "I could not feel easy, and I don't think Mrs. Harold could, to have you go alone, Miss Thorne."
"I don't know what there is to be afraid of—unless you mean poor Lucian," said Garda, laughing.
Mrs. Spenser rested her hands upon her arms with a firm pressure, the right hand on the top of the left arm, the left hand under the right arm as a support. In this pose (which gave her a majestic appearance) she left the shade, and walked towards the path.
"I'm afraid you will suffer from the heat," said Garda, guilelessly. It really was guileless—a guileless indifference; but to a large, dark, easily flushed woman it sounded much like malice.
They had gone but a short distance when Garda's prophecy came true; the deep red hue re-appeared, it was even darker than before. Margaret was alarmed. "Do go back to the shade," she urged.
Mrs. Spenser, who had stopped for a moment, glanced at her strangely. "I am perfectly well," she answered, in a husky whisper.
Margaret looked at Garda, who was standing at a little distance, waiting. The girl, who was much amused by this scene, mutely laughed and shook her head; evidently she would not yield.
"I will go on with Garda," Margaret said; "but I beg you not to attempt it, Mrs. Spenser."
"Oh, if you are going," murmured Rosalie, her eyes still shining strangely from her copper-colored face.