Julia complied, placing herself opposite him in the boat; but as he took up the paddles she declared that she preferred to remain on the water—there was too much malice prepense in the temple. He asked her what she meant by that, and she said it was ridiculous to withdraw to an island a few feet square on purpose to meditate. She had nothing to meditate about that required so much scenery and attitude.
"On the contrary, it would be just to change the scene and the pose. It's what we have been doing for a week that's attitude; and to be for half an hour where nobody's looking and one hasn't to keep it up is just what I wanted to put in an idle irresponsible day for. I'm not keeping it up now—I suppose you've noticed," Nick went on as they floated and he scarcely dipped the oars.
"I don't understand you"—and Julia leaned back in the boat.
He gave no further explanation than to ask in a minute: "Have you people to dinner to-night?"
"I believe there are three or four, but I'll put them off if you like."
"Must you always live in public, Julia?" he continued.
She looked at him a moment and he could see how she coloured. "We'll go home—I'll put them off."
"Ah no, don't go home; it's too jolly here. Let them come, let them come, poor wretches!"
"How little you know me," Julia presently broke out, "when, ever so many times, I've lived here for months without a creature!"
"Except Mrs. Gresham, I suppose."