"I am afraid I haven't been very fortunate in my choice to-day either," she said somewhat ruefully, as she descended.
He laughed. "We all trespass in these woods. It's a time-honoured custom, isn't it, Mr. Fielding? The pheasants are quite used to it."
Juliet did not glance in the squire's direction. She felt that she had done all that was necessary in that quarter, and that any further overture would but meet with a churlish response.
But to her astonishment he took the initiative. "I am afraid I wasn't too hospitable just now," he said. "It's this fellow's fault. Dick, it's up to you to apologize on my behalf."
Juliet looked at him then in amazement, and saw that the dour visage was actually smiling at her—such a smile as transformed it completely.
"If Miss Moore will permit me," said Mr. Green, with a bow, "I will introduce you to her. You will then be en rapport and in a position to apologize for yourself."
"Pedagogue!" said the squire.
And Juliet laughed for the first time. "If anyone apologizes it should be me," she said.
"I!" murmured Green. "With more apologies!"
The squire turned on him. "Green, I'll punch your head for you directly, you unspeakable pedant! What should you take him for, Miss Moore? A very high priest or a very low comedian?"