“You here, Maudlaine?” exclaimed Sir Murray.
“Eh? Why, what the deuce—Dear me! I suppose I was dozing,” said his lordship, lifting himself up a bit at a time, as he indulged in a most unmistakable yawn.
“Not with Isa?” said Sir Murray. “I thought you went out with her?”
“Ya-as—ya-as! no question of a doubt about it, I did,” drawled the Viscount; “and I’ve just been dreaming that I was boating with her on the lake—not your fish-pond here, but Como—same as we did before we came away.”
“But you went out walking with her?” said Sir Murray, anxiously.
“Ya-as. Not a question of a doubt about it! I did go out and walked a little way with her.”
“Did she turn back, then?”
“N-n-no!” said the Viscount; “point of fact, she as good as told me she didn’t want me, and went on by herself.”
“My dear Maudlaine,” said Sir Murray, smiling, as he clapped his guest upon the shoulder, “I’m afraid that you are not half a lady’s man. It is a fine thing for you that you have no rival in the field.”
“Ya-as—just so—no doubt about that,” said his lordship laughing. “But a—a I began talking to her on indifferent subjects, and, point of fact, she didn’t seem to like indifferent subjects—seemed as if I bothered her, you know, and of course I didn’t want to do that; so seeing, as you say, that there was no one else in the field—regular walk over the course, you know—I didn’t bother her nor myself either. We’re getting on very nicely, though, Sir Murray—very nicely indeed. No question about that.”