"Shall we proceed, madam?"
"At your pleasure, sir." So they went on side by side silently awhile, the Major a little grim and very stately.
"I do think John thou'rt very mannish at times."
"Mannish, madam?"
"Blind, overbearing and apt to be a little muddled."
The Major bowed. "For instance, John, methinks you do muddle a woman of will with a wilful woman." The Major bowed. "Now if, John, if in cause so just I should risk—not my body but my name—my fame, who shall stay me seeing I'm unwed and slave to no man yet—God be thanked." The Major bowed lower than ever and went beside her with his grandest air. "'Deed John," she sighed, "if you do grow any more dignified I fear you'll expire and perish o' pride and high-breeding."
The distant clock struck two as, turning down a certain bye-lane, the Major paused at a rustic door that gave into my lady's herb-garden. But when he would have opened it she stayed him.
"'Tis so late, John——"
"Indeed 'tis very late, madam!"
"Too late to sleep this night. And such a night, John—the moon, O the moon!"