"We had a tiresome journey," she went on. "Why will people live in Lancashire? Is this your chair, mother?"
Mr. Martin got up.
"I'm going in," he said; "you can have mine. At least, I'm going for a ride. Is the tea good, Eva?—it has been made for some time—or shall I tell them to send you out some more?"
"It seems to me very bad," said Eva, sipping it. "Yes, I should like some more. Are you going for a ride? Perhaps I'll come."
"Yes, it's cooler now," said he. "Do come with me."
"Will you order my horse, then, if you are going in? Perhaps you'd better tell them to have it ready only, and not to bring it round. I won't come just yet, anyhow. If I'm not ready, start without me, and I daresay I'll follow you, if you tell me where you are going."
"I want to ride up to the Whitestones'—to see him."
"Very well, I daresay I shall follow you."
Mr. Martin stood looking rather like a servant receiving orders. Eva always managed to make other people assume subordinate positions.
"How long do you think you will be?" he asked.