They climbed into the light.
“Oh, very sorry, Mr. Tempest—when yer look down on a man he never looks the same. I thought it was some young fools come here dallyin’—”
“Damn you—shut up!” exclaimed Leslie—“I beg your pardon, Lettie. Will you have my arm?”
They looked very elegant, the pair of them. Lettie was wearing a long coat which fitted close; she had a small hat whose feathers flushed straight back with her hair.
The keeper looked at them. Then, smiling, he went down the dell with great strides, and returned, saying, “Well, the lady might as well take her gloves.”
She took them from him, shrinking to Leslie. Then she started, and said:
“Let me fetch my flowers.”
She ran for the handful of snowdrops that lay among the roots of the trees. We all watched her.
“Sorry I made such a mistake—a lady!” said Annable. “But I’ve nearly forgot the sight o’ one—save the squire’s daughters, who are never out o’ nights.”
“I should think you never have seen many—unless—! Have you ever been a groom?”