In the meantime, the lovers postponed inevitable disagreeables, in order to talk about their own particular future, and to enjoy themselves the more, they went for a short drive in Ackworth's dog-cart, which had been waiting all this time at the door, in charge of Mr. Horran's groom. Anthony had not brought his own servant, so the conversation of himself and his fiancée was perfectly free and unfettered. As they drove along the High Street, Dr. Jerce passed them, in earnest conversation with Ferdinand.
"I expect he's bringing your brother to his senses," said Ackworth, hopefully.
"I hope he will," sighed Clarice. "I am not very fond of Dr. Jerce, but he is certainly a good man, and his example is one which Ferdy should follow. I wonder," she added, musingly, "if Ferdy ever saw Uncle Henry at the Shah's Rooms. That is just the sort of fast place which Ferdy would go to."
Anthony flicked the horse's ears with his whip, and laughed. "I have been there also," said he, coolly. "Perhaps I should not have confessed as much to you, my dear."
"Why not?" demanded Clarice, with perfect candour. "You must not think me a cotton-wool young woman. I quite understand that men are men."
"And that women are angels?" questioned Anthony, bending to see her pretty face.
"We leave that for the men to say," returned Clarice, dryly.
"This man says it--of you."
"This man does not talk sense."
"Nor does he intend to. I have had enough of sense for the day, my dearest. Sensible conversation invariably means worry. Let us enjoy our golden hour, without transmuting it into dull lead."