The air of admiration with which Guy made his bow was agreeable to Gladys. She liked the glance that lingered upon her, and the smile with which he said—
"You must have thought you were coming into a second deluge when you arrived last night, Miss Stanton. I shudder to think what Wyndham must have looked to you with the fields about it all swamped."
Gladys gave a light little laugh. "It had a dismal appearance, I must confess," she said. "Aldyth had prepared me for a scene of desolation, but the reality surpassed all the efforts of my imagination. I thought of the prisoner of Chillon, and pictured myself spending weary days and nights within water-girt walls. But happily the sunshine has relieved me of that horror."
"Wyndham is a dismal hole, though," said Guy. "Woodham is bad enough, but Wyndham is a few degrees worse."
"Don't depress me," said Gladys. "I am on my way to discover all the excitements your town can afford."
"Not many excitements, I fear," said Miss Lorraine, whilst Guy shrugged his shoulders significantly. "After all the pleasures you have enjoyed in town and at the seaside, our amusements will seem very commonplace."
"But there are pleasures peculiar to a country life, are there not?" said Gladys with an air of simplicity. "Hay-making, for instance. I should like to try that. I can fancy myself in a great hat, with a pitchfork in my hand, tossing the hay. It would be so charmingly idyllic."
"It would be if you turned haymaker," said Guy, with a meaning glance; "unfortunately the hay-harvest is over, but there are other country occupations—there is the shooting now, you know. But I forget, ladies do not shoot. They hunt, though, occasionally."
"Ah, that is what I should like to do," said Gladys; "if we do not share it, we like to hear about your sport. Do come in sometimes and tell us how the shooting goes."
"With pleasure," said Guy, as Aldyth gave her horse a touch and it moved on.