“Not a b-b-bit.”
“Don't you think,” said Barbara, “that we had better go back, at once—the other way?”
“Certainly not. There are no more bulls, I suppose, between us and this woman?”
“But are you fit to see her?”
Lady Casterley passed her handkerchief over her lips, to remove their quivering.
“Perfectly,” she answered.
“Then, dear,” said Barbara, “stand still a minute, while I dust you behind.”
This having been accomplished, they proceeded in the direction of Mrs. Noel's cottage.
At sight of it, Lady Casterley said:
“I shall put my foot down. It's out of the question for a man of Miltoun's prospects. I look forward to seeing him Prime Minister some day.” Hearing Barbara's voice murmuring above her, she paused: “What's that you say?”