"I wish we had been altogether so," mutters he, savagely.
I stare at him in speechless surprise. Did that flask contain much brandy? What on earth has happened to our careless, debonair Sir Mark?
Even as I gaze in wonder, he turns his head and looks with some degree of shame into my widely-opened, astonished eyes.
"Pardon me," he says, gently. "I don't know what has come to me to-day. I fail to understand myself. I doubt I am an ill-tempered brute, and have hardly any right even to hope for your forgiveness."
But his manner has effectually checked my burst of eloquence, and we keep unbroken silence until we reach our destination.
Here we find Marmaduke and Lady Blanche anxiously on the lookout for us; the others, tired of waiting, have wandered farther afield. Marmaduke is looking rather white and worried, I fancy.
"What has kept you until this hour?" he asks, irritably, pulling out his watch.
"Oh, how long you have been!" supplements Blanche. "We were beginning to wonder—almost to fear an accident had occurred. It is quite a relief to see you in the flesh."
"You were very near not seeing us," I explain. "The ponies behaved very badly—ran away with us for half a mile or so—and frightened me so much that I fainted."
"How distressing!" says Blanche, apparently much concerned. "How terrified you must have been! And so unpleasant, too, without a lady near to help you! You were able to resuscitate Mrs. Carrington, at all events." (To Sir Mark.)