"Driving," she said at once. "And now yours?"
"Mine was none of these things," he answered. "I wonder what sort of conveyance they can provide us with? Also what manner of horse? Are you going to drive or am I? Mind, you are to state your preference."
"Very well," she answered. "Then I'll drive, please, I know this country a little. I stayed near here three years ago with the Nevilles. Archie and I used to fish."
"Did you ever catch anything?" Wingarde asked, with his quiet eyes on her face.
"Of course we did," she answered. "Salmon trout—beauties. Oh, and other things. I forget what they were called. We had great fun, I remember."
Her face flushed at the remembrance. Archie had been very romantic in those days, quite foolishly so. But somehow she had enjoyed it.
Wingarde said no more. He rose directly the meal was over. It was a perfect summer morning. The view from the windows was exquisite. Beyond the green stretches of the park rose peak after peak of sunlit mountains. There were a few cloud-shadows floating here and there. In one place, gleaming like a thread of silver, he could see a waterfall tumbling down a barren hillside.
Suddenly, through the summer silence, an octave of bells pealed joyously.
Nina started
"Why, it's Sunday!" she exclaimed. "I had quite forgotten. We ought to go to church."