"But mam, I—er—indeed, madam, I know nought of such things I——"
"Nay sir, never doubt but we shall contrive it betwixt us. 'Tis then agreed—O 'twill be pure! Henceforth we are conspirators, dear Major, O 'tis ravishing! Hush—yonder come the gentlemen to make their adieux, I think—let us meet 'em!"
As one in a dream the Major gave her his hand and together they rejoined the company who took leave of their host with much bowing of backs, flirting of ruffles, flicking of handkerchiefs and tapping of snuff-boxes. As the Major stood to watch their departure my lady Betty beckoned him to her side:
"And pray, dear sir, hath my aunt recounted you all my sins?" she enquired soft-voiced.
"I have learned you can milk a cow and felicitate you——"
"Of course she told you how I wore breeches, sir?"
The Major gasped, and stood before her blushing and mute; perceiving which, she laughed:
"Indeed, they become me vastly well!" she murmured, and sank before him in the stateliest of curtseys. "Au revoir, my dear Major Jack!" she laughed and giving her hand to an attendant adorer, moved away down the drive with all the gracious dignity of a young goddess.
Long after the gay company had vanished from sight Major d'Arcy stood there, head bowed, hands deep-plunged in coat pockets and with the flush still burning upon his bronzed cheek.