"I don't as a rule—I vow I don't! 'tis hateful to snore and I don't snore—ask Aunt Belinda. And O pray John don't be so grim and stately."
"So," said he gently but his voice a little hoarse, "so you have—have thought better of your bargain, it seems."
"Bargain, dear John?"
"Your—cavalier, madam. Mr. Dalroyd rides alone after all, 'twould appear."
"Mr. Dalroyd!" she repeated, busied with a lock of glossy hair that had escaped its bonds.
The Major bowed with his gravest and grandest air.
"Nay prithee John," she sighed, "beseech thee, don't be dignified. And the hour so late and I all alone here."
"And pray madam, why are you here?" he questioned. Now at this, meeting his cold, grey eye, she flushed and quailed slightly.
"Doth it—displease you, Major John?"
"Here is no place for you, madam, nor—nor ever can be, nor any woman henceforth."