"I want you to get a side-saddle ready for Brunette to-morrow, Hollis," said Arthur. "Mrs. Considine and I are going for a ride over the hill."
At the end of the stables they encountered a pair of golden retrievers. For a moment they stared at Arthur, and then, suddenly recognising him, made for him together, jumping up with their paws on his shoulders and licking him with their pale tongues.
"What beauties," Gabrielle cried.
"Yes, they come from Banbury," he said. "I'll get you a pup next term if you'd like one."
Their evening was crowded with such small wonders. "I can't show you half the things I want to," he said. "It's ridiculous that you should only be here for three days." He would have gone on for ever, and she had to warn him when the clock in the stables struck seven that they had only just time to dress for dinner. On the way upstairs he showed her his new study, with the bookshelves that he had bought in the last holidays.
"I do all my writing here," he said, and then suddenly but shyly emboldened: "it was here that I wrote to you when I sent you the cowslips."
He had never dared to mention the incident before.
"You didn't answer me," he went on. "Why didn't you answer me? I wish you'd tell me."
"Arthur—I couldn't—you know that I couldn't."
A panic seized her and she went blushing to her room.