"How is the ankle?" said Green.
She smiled at him without embarrassment. "Oh, better, thank you. It was only a wrench."
"Hurt yourself?" questioned Fielding.
"No, no. It's really nothing. I slipped in the park and nearly sprained my ankle—just not quite," said Juliet. "And Mr. Green very kindly helped me into shelter before the storm broke."
"Did he?" said the squire and looked at Green searchingly. "Well, Mr.
Green, you'd better stay and dine as you are here."
"You're very kind," Dick said. "I don't know whether I ought. I'm not dressed."
"Of course you ought!" said Fielding testily. "Come on and wash! Your clothes won't matter—we're alone. That is, if Miss Moore doesn't object to sitting down with blue serge."
"I have no objection whatever," said Juliet. She was looking from one to the other with a slightly puzzled expression.
"What is it?" said Fielding, pausing.
His look was kindly. Juliet laughed. "I don't know. I feel as I felt that day you caught me trespassing. Am I trespassing, I wonder?"