In fact he drew quite near; near enough to distinguish the ripples of soft lace about, her feet, the long graceful sweep of her gown; and still she seemed unconscious of his close proximity.
He passed beneath the beeches and stood before her. And, even then, the parasol concealed her face.
But Jim Airth was never at a loss, when sure of his ground. “Lady Ingleby,” he said, with grave formality; “I was told to——”
Then the parasol was flung aside, and he found himself looking down into the lovely laughing eyes of Myra.
To see Jim Airth’s face change from its look of formal gravity to one of rapturous delight, was to Myra well worth the long effort of sitting immovable. He flung himself down before her with boyish abandon, and clasped both herself and her chair in his long arms.
“Oh, you darling!” he said, bending his face over hers, while his blue eyes danced with delight. “Oh, Myra, what centuries since yesterday! How I have longed for you. I almost hoped you would after all have come to the station. How I have grudged wasting all this time in coming to call on old Lady Ingleby. Myra, has it seemed long to you? Do you realise, my dear girl, that it can’t go on any longer; that we cannot possibly live through another twenty-four hours of separation? But oh, you Tease! There was I, ramping with impatience at every wasted moment; and here were you, sitting under this tree, hiding your face and pretending to be Lady Ingleby! The astonished and astonishing old party in the eyebrows, certainly pointed you out as Lady Ingleby when he started me off on my pilgrimage. I say, how lovely you look! What billowy softness! It wouldn’t do for cliff-climbing; but its A.I. for sitting on lawns.... I can’t help it! I must!”
“Jim,” said Myra, laughing and pushing him away; “what has come to you, you dearest old boy? You will really have to behave! We are not in the honeysuckle arbour. ‘The astonishing old party in the eyebrows’ is most likely observing us from a window, and will have good cause to look astonished, if he sees you ‘carrying on’ in such a manner. Jim, how nice you look in your town clothes. I always like a grey frock-coat. Stand up, and let me see.... Oh, look at the green of the turf on those immaculate knees! What a pity. Did you don all this finery for me?”
“Of course not, silly!” said Jim Airth, rubbing his knees vigorously. “When I haul you up cliffs, I wear old Norfolk coats; and when I duck you in the sea, I wear flannels. I considered this the correct attire in which to pay a formal call on Lady Ingleby; and now, before she has had a chance of being duly impressed by it, I have spoilt my knees hopelessly, worshipping at your shrine! Where is Lady Ingleby? Why doesn’t she keep her appointments?”
“Jim,” said Myra, looking up at him with eyes full of unspeakable love, yet dancing with excitement and delight; “Jim, do you admire this place?”
“This place?” cried Jim, stepping back a pace, so as to command a good view of the lake and woods beyond. “It is absolutely perfect. We have nothing like this in Scotland. You can’t beat for all round beauty a real old mellow lived-in English country seat; especially when you get a twenty acre lake, with islands and swans, all complete. And I suppose the woods beyond, as far as one can see, belong to the Inglebys—or rather, to Lady Ingleby. What a pity there is no son.”