"Has it ever struck you," she asked, "that there is something peculiar about Mr. Thain in his attitude towards us—as a family, I mean?"
The Marquis shook his head.
"On the contrary," he replied, "I have always considered his deportment unimpeachable."
Letitia hesitated, pulled a rose to pieces and turned back with her father towards where the Duchess was reclining in a wicker chair.
"I dare say it's my fancy. Why don't you all go," she suggested, "and take Mr. Thain by storm? He can scarcely resist you, aunt, and Sylvia."
"Why don't you come yourself?" the Duchess asked.
"My duty lies here," Letitia observed, with a little smile towards Grantham, who had just strolled up with Sylvia.
The Duchess rose to her feet.
"Dear me, yes!" she acquiesced. "You two had better go off and have a long country walk. If I sit for long after luncheon, I always go to sleep; so come along, Reginald, we'll beard the lion in his den."
The Marquis glanced towards Sylvia, but she shook her head.