“Horrid,” said Lucy again to herself.
“I feel as if I could regularly run away from him. My legs are as hard as nails.”
“Indeed!”
“Oh, yes. I haven’t trained like this for nothing. Don’t you think you’ve hindered me. I sha’n’t trouble about it any more.”
All this while Lucy was trying to escape from her companion, but it was rather a wild idea to trudge away from a man whose legs were as hard as nails. As she walked on, though, she found herself wondering whether the finishing spurt that the captain talked of putting on was some kind of garment, as she kept steadily along, with, to her great disgust, the captain keeping coolly enough by her side, and evidently feeling quite at home, beginning to chat about the weather, the advantages of early rising, and the like.
“I declare,” thought Lucy, “if I met anyone, I should be ready to sink through the ground for shame. I wish he’d go.”
“Some people waste half their days in bed, Miss Alleyne. Glad to see you don’t. I’ve been up these two hours, and feel, as they say, as fit as a fiddle, and, if you’ll forgive me for saying so, you look just the same you do really, you know.”
He cast an admiring glance at her, which she noted, and for the moment it frightened her, then it fired a train, and a mischievous flash darted from her eyes.
This was delicious, and though her cheeks glowed a little, perhaps from the exercise, her heart gave a great leap, and began to rejoice.
“I knew he was not worthy of her,” she thought. “The wretch! I won’t run away, though I want to very badly.” And she walked calmly on by his side.