She pinched his chin. “What a very unhandsome person you are to remind me of that! It was quite shocking!”
“Exactly so! Unless you wish me to think you an outrageous flirt, you must promise to marry me!”
“John, how do you contrive to laugh with your eyes, while you keep your face so grave?”
“I don’t know, and you haven’t answered me!”
“Ah, you know I will! But not yet! Not while my grandfather needs me! You must not ask that of me, dearest! I could not leave him!”
“No, I see that you could not. Don’t fear me! I don’t mean to tease you. Kiss me once more, and then I must be off!”
She would have escorted him to the side-entrance, but he would not permit it. They parted at the head of the stairs, he to let himself quietly out of the house, she to retire to her own room, to be alone with her happiness.
Winkfield, looking covertly at his master, as he entered his bedchamber, was satisfied that the Captain’s visit had done him no harm. He had expected to find him very tired, but he saw that he was wide awake, looking fixedly at the fire, and slightly drumming his fingers on his chair-arm. The valet began to remove the quilt from the bed, and to lay out his master’s nightshirt, and his cap. He was startled by Sir Peter’s saying suddenly: “Not yet! Bring me a pen and ink and some paper!”
“Sir?” Winkfield said, blinking at him.
“Don’t pretend you’re deaf! I must write a letter.”