"I am not a hostess at all," I answered back—"only a guest."
He followed me. "Then you are a very casual guest, not consulting the pleasure of your host."
I said nothing. I only looked at him over my shoulder as I went down the marble steps—looked at him and laughed, as on the night before.
He turned back into the house without a word, and I did not see him again until just before luncheon.
There is something unpleasant about saying good-bye to a place, and I found I had all sorts of sensations rising in my throat at various points in my walk. However, all that is ridiculous and must be forgotten. As I was coming round the corner of the terrace, a great gust of wind nearly blew me into Mr. Carruthers's arms. Odious weather we are having this autumn!
"Where have you been all the morning?" he said, when we had recovered ourselves a little. "I have searched for you all over the place."
"You do not know it all yet, or you would have found me," I said, pretending to walk on.
"No, you shall not go now!" he exclaimed, pacing beside me. "Why won't you be amiable, and make me feel at home?"
"I do apologize if I have been unamiable," I said, with great frankness. "Mrs. Carruthers always brought me up to have such good manners."
After that he talked to me for half an hour about the place.