It was laid out in neat walks, much of it under cultivation for vegetables, but there were some flowerbeds as well, and the tops of the fruit trees beyond the mellow brick wall were heavy with blossom. From the window could be seen rose bushes, some fine fig trees, and several orange trees. Judith thought the garden must be enchanting in summer.
"I daresay it is," agreed Barbara. "We might arrange another expedition here, perhaps in June."
"June! Who knows what may have happened by then?"
"Oh, you are thinking of the war, are you? I am tired of it: we have heard too much of it, and nothing ever happens."
"It certainly seems out of place in this peaceful little Chateau," Judith remarked. "You must have had a delightful ride through the Forest. Such noble trees! I do not think there can be any tree to compare with the beech."
"Beech trees, are they? To tell you the truth, I did not notice them particularly," said Barbara. "Etienne, fill glasses, if you please!"
"Ah, allow me!" Peregrine said, hurrying to the table for the decanter that stood on it.
She held out her glass, smiling at him. He filled it, and his own, saying audaciously: "To your green eyes, Lady Bab!"
She laughed. "To your blue ones, Sir Peregrine!" Luncheon was brought in at this moment, and soon the whole party was seated round the table, partaking of minced chicken and scalloped oysters.
Lady Barbara was in spirits, the Count scarcely less so, and everything might have gone off merrily enough had not Lady Taverner taken one of her rare dislikes to Barbara. Like many shy women, she had some strong prejudices. She had never liked Barbara. Until today she had known her merely by sight and by repute, and being a just little creature, had refused to condemn her .But from the moment of seeing Barbara come down the steps of her home in her hussar dress she had seen that gossip had not lied. Barbara was fast, and, since she chose deliberately to ride off alone with a dreadfull rake, unprincipled into the bargain. She offended every canon of good taste: lounged like a man, tossed off her wine like a man, and (thought Harriet, in her innocence) swore like a trooper. Listening to her conversation at the luncheon table, Harriet decided that some of her sallies were a trifle warm. Shocked. and with a very prim expression on her face, she tried to give the conversation a more decorous turn. It was too pointed an attempt; Barbara looked at her, blankly at first, and then in frank amusement. She addressed an idle remark to Harriet, received the chilliest of monosyllables in reply, and openly laughed.