Herbert replied that he would take off the cap or do anything they liked. So the three went down into the meadow, and some infamous negatives resulted later. At the time care seemed to be taken by the photographers, while Lord Manister stood at a little distance, laughing a good deal. He was pressed to stand in the foreground, but not by Christina, and he steadily refused. The conciliation of his enemy seemed assured without that, though he did think of something else to make it doubly sure.
"By the way, Luttrell," he said as the camera was being packed away, "you're a cricketer to a certainty—you're an Australian."
"I'm very fond of it," the Australian replied, "but I haven't played over here; I've never had the slant."
"Well, we play a bit; come over and practice with us."
Herbert thanked him, declaring that he should like nothing better.
"Lord Manister is a great cricketer," Christina observed.
"Come over and practice," repeated his lordship cordially. "The ground isn't at all bad, considering it was only made last winter, and there's a professor to bowl to you. We have some matches coming on presently. Perhaps we might find a place for you."
This was the one thing Lord Manister said which came within measurable distance of offending the touchy Herbert. A minute later they had parted company.
"They might find a place for me," Herbert repeated as he and Tiny turned toward the village, while Lord Manister drove off in the opposite direction, with another slightly ornamental sweep of his hat. "Might they, indeed! I wouldn't take it. My troubles about their matches! But I could enjoy a practice."
"He said he would send over for you next time they do practice."