Oberon paced forward to the homeward route.
'So be it. On, then! An hour will bring us to The Firs.'
The house was all but reached, when Wilfrid caught a glimpse of a straw hat moving into a heath-clad hollow a hundred yards from the road. He pressed on. At the gate stood a gardener.
'James,' he cried, leaping down, 'take the horse to the stable, will you?'
And, instead of going up to the house, he walked back in the direction he had come till he reached the hollow in which the straw hat had disappeared. Miss Hood sat on the ground, reading. She was about to rise, but Wilfrid begged her not to move, and threw himself into a reclining posture.
'I saw you as I rode past,' he said, in a friendly way. 'I suppose the twins are straying?'
'They are at Greenhaws,' was the reply, 'Mrs. Winter called for them immediately after lunch. She will bring them back early in the evening.'
'Ah!'
He plucked sprigs of heather. Miss Hood turned to her book.
'I've had a magnificent ride,' Wilfrid began again. 'Surely there is no country in England so glorious as this. Don't you enjoy it?'