“Then we’ll sort ourselves again, and I’ll go on.”
As he strode away, Mrs Ravenhill called after him, “Thank you for your help.”
“He enjoyed it,” said Millie. “It was the nearest approach he could have had to a steeplechase, and has quite raised his spirits.” Wareham felt so unconscionably guilty, that it might be supposed something else was really scourging him, and using his small neglect for a lash. He murmured—
“I am thankful he was here. If I had dreamed of real danger—”
“There was as much for the others as for us,” said Millie reasonably. “Besides, I believe Mr Grey and the skydsgut were equal to the emergency. Poor Mr Grey was the only sufferer.”
“Oh, I’m all right,” said the young man. “I say, Mr Wareham, was Miss Dalrymple frightened?”
“Not that I know of,” answered Wareham shortly.
Mrs Ravenhill raised her eyebrows at the tone.
“Now, if you and Mr Grey like to drive on before us,” she said, “Millie and I are quite equal to taking care of ourselves on level ground.”
“I see no reason for changing.”