"I see that your retinue has been substantially augmented," he remarked, a trace of jealousy in his voice. "The good-looking Mr. White has not been eluded."
"Mr. White? Oh, yes, I see. But he is to be trusted, Mr. Schmidt," she said mysteriously—and tantalisingly. "He will not betray me to my cruel monster of a father. I have his solemn promise not to reveal my whereabouts to any one. My father is the last person in the world to whom he would go with reports of my misdoings."
"I saw you this morning, riding with him," said he glumly.
"Through the telescope?" she inquired softly, laying a hand upon the stationary instrument.
He flushed hotly. "It was when you were starting out, Miss Guile. I am not one of the spies, you should remember."
"You are my partner in guilt," she said lightly. "By the way, have you forgiven me for leading you into temptation?"
"Certainly. I am still in the Garden of Eden, you see, and as I don't take any stock in the book of Genesis, I hope to prove to myself at least, that the conduct of an illustrious forebear of mine was not due to the frailties of Eve but to his own tremendous anxiety to get out of a place that was filled with snakes. I hope and pray that you will continue to put temptation in my path so that I may have the frequent pleasure of falling."
She turned her face away and for a moment was silent. "Shall we take those chairs over there, Mr. Schmidt? They appear to be as abandoned as we." She indicated two chairs near the broad portals.
He shook his head. "If we are looking for the most utterly abandoned, allow me to call your attention to the two in yonder corner."
"It is quite dark over there," she said with a frown.