Their hands clasped warmly. “As you see, O mountain. I flourish. And you?”
“The same as ever. Prue’s well, and will be overjoyed to see you. You must come out to her.” Sir Anthony stood back the better to survey Robin. “Well, my little popinjay, you make a mighty pretty young man.”
“I do, don’t I?” Robin retorted. “One of these days, my mammoth, I will cross foils with you, and maybe teach you a trick or two will make you respect me.”
“You are really very like your father,” sighed Sir Anthony.
They went out together on to the lawn. There was a cedar tree not far from the house, and chairs set under it. A lady of ample proportions sat in one: Robin had no difficulty in recognising Sir Anthony’s sister. Beside her Prudence sat in a gown of white muslin. She looked up as the two men crossed the lawn, and rose quickly. “My dear!” she said, and held out her hands as she went to meet Robin.
He put an arm round her waist, and kissed her cheek. “Well, child, does the gentleman like you in this guise?” Privately he thought he had never seen her look better. Handsome she was as a boy, but in her petticoats she was a beautiful, queenly creature: a big woman, perhaps, but not too big for the man she had chosen.
She gave her delightful chuckle. “He says so, my dear, but I doubt he doesn’t like to hurt my sensibilities. But I must make you known to my lady.” She led him forward. “Beatrice, will you be kind to my little brother?”
My lady held out a plump hand. “I’ll be kind to anyone who doesn’t want me to get up,” she said in a voice very like Sir Anthony’s. She looked Robin over placidly. “Of course, I begin to understand,” she said. “You would make a charming girl.”
Robin bowed over her hand, and his eyes began to dance. “Not near so charming a girl as a man, ma’am,” he assured her.
“Very, very like his lordship,” said Sir Anthony pensively.