“Is aught wrong, sir?” he inquired at last.
Sir John glanced up and round about upon the peaceful beauty of the countryside.
“’Twill be a lovely evening, Robert.”
“Quite so, sir.”
“We don’t believe in presentiments, do we, Bob?”
“No, sir—leastways——”
“Or omens and the like liverish fancies? Now, do we happen to believe in warnings, by any chance?”
“Depends, sir, on who warns and what about.”
“And after all, Bob, as Mr. Potter once remarked: ‘What is to be, must be!’ So let us on and be done with it one way or t’other.”