Mary Darling was in a deep reverie. From this, his eyes twinkling behind their thick glasses, Mr. Langham roused her with the brisk utterance of one of his favorite quotations:
"'General Blank's compliments,'" said he, "'and he reports that the colored troops are turning black in the face.'"
Mary smiled her friendliest smile.
"I was wondering," she said, "what had become of Lee and Renier."
"I have noted," said Mr. Langham, "that she always calls him by his last name, sometimes with the prefix you—'You Renier' put like that. And I was wondering if he ever turns the trick on her."
"Why should he?" asked Mary innocently.
"You have forgotten," said he, "that her last name is Darling." His eyes twinkled with amazing and playful boldness. "You're all Darlings," he exclaimed, "and"—a note of self-pity in his voice—"I'm just a fat old stuff!"
"That," said Mary primly, "is perfectly correct, but for three trifling errors—you're not fat, you're not old, and you're not a stuff!"
If she had told him that he was handsome as Apollo he could not have been more pleased.
And so their adventure progressed in the pleasant sunlight that warmed the top of the little hill. No very exciting adventure, you say? And of a shilly-shallying and even snail-like motion?