Judith intervened, and the awkward moment passed. But as Harriet, mortified by the laugh, remained for the rest of the meal apparently oblivious of Barbara's presence, she began to wish that she had never hit upon the idea of arranging this pleasure party. The task of talking to Harriet without ignoring Barbara taxed her powers to the utmost, and by the time they rose from the table she would have been hard put to it to say which of the two ladies she most blamed.
Luncheon at an end, a walk in the orchard and wood was proposed. Harriet declined it, but when she had been comfortably settled with a book by the fire, the rest of the party strolled out into the garden, and after wandering about its paths for a little while, made their way into the orchard. Daffodils were growing under the fruit trees in great profusion. Judith could not resist the temptation of picking some. The Count gave instant permission: his cousin would be only too happy! had, in fact, written to beg that the visitors would consider the Chateau their own. She soon had an armful; he very considerately ran back to the house with them, to save her the trouble of carrying them; and returned to find her waiting for him under a gnarled old apple tree, Barbara having gone off to explore the wood with Peregrine.
Judith believed Peregrine to be too devoted to his Harriet to be in danger of succumbing to Barbara's charms, but the light raillery that had been going on between them made her feel a little uneasy. Courtesy had obliged her to wait for Lavisse's return, but when he joined her it was she, and not he, who suggested marching up with the others.
They made their way into the wood, but after they had been walking about for a time without seeing nothing of the truants, the Count suggested that they should follow the track which led from the Chateau, through the wood, and over a slight hill to the Charleroi road.
"I mentioned to Bab that there is a view to be obtained from the top of the hill. Without doubt they have gone there," he said. "You will not be too tired? It is perhaps a kilometre's distance."
"I should enjoy it of all things. This spring weather is invigorating, don't you agree?"
"Certainly. But I fear my poor country must disappoint one accustomed to the varied scene in England."
"By no means. Perhaps there is a variety in England not elsewhere to be found: I myself am a native of Yorkshire, where, we flatter ourselves, we have unsurpassed grandeur. But there is something very taking about this country of yours. If you have none of the rugged beauty I could show you in Yorkshire, you have instead a homely, thriving scene which must inevitably please. So many rivers, so many neat farmsteads, shady copses, and rich fields!"
"This is unexpected praise, madame. Bab declares my country to be too tame. Nothing can happen here, she says."
"She speaks lightly," Judith replied. "My knowledge of history, though not at all profound, reminds me that, in spite of every appearance to the contrary, stirring events have happened here."