"Very well," he laughed. "I can see I shall have to manœuvre a good deal to talk quietly to you here, but you will stand with me, won't you, out shooting to-morrow?"
I told him I did not suppose we should be allowed to go out, except perhaps for lunch, but he said he refused to believe in such cruelty.
Then he asked me a lot of things about how I had been getting on, and what I intended to do next. He has the most charming way of making one feel that one knows him very well, he looks at one every now and then straight in the eyes, with astonishing frankness. I have never seen any person so quite without airs. I don't suppose he is ever thinking a bit the effect he is producing. Nothing has two meanings with him, like with Mr. Carruthers. If he had said I was to stay and marry him, I am sure he would have meant it, and I really believe I should have stayed.
"Do you remember our morning packing?" he said, presently, in such a caressing voice. "I was so happy; weren't you?"
I said I was.
"And Christopher was mad with us. He was like a bear with a sore head after you left, and insisted upon going up to town on Monday, just for the day. He came over here on Tuesday, didn't he?"
"No, he did not," I was obliged to say, and I felt cross about it still, I don't know why.
"He is a queer creature," said Lord Robert, "and I am glad you have not seen him. I don't want him in the way. I am a selfish brute, you know."
I said Mrs. Carruthers had always brought me up to know men were that, so such a thing would not prejudice me against him.
He laughed. "You must help me to come and sit and talk again after dinner," he said. "I can see the red-haired son means you for himself, but of course I shall not allow that."