“Look there, Edward. There’s the summer fleet.”
“What if it is? We can’t throw the Governor over. We must dine with the Governor. What? You an Englishman and want not to dine with a lord?”
“How about our friend there?”
“No Englishman would arrest a guest at dinner. He values his digestion and his butler’s opinion too much. There’s no risk. Oh, we must go to the dinner. I’ve got a new American coat to go in.”
“No harm in it, sir,” said Cammock. “It might divert the lady, poor thing.”
“Yes,” said Margaret, sighing. “If it won’t tire her.” He crossed over to the Stukeleys. “Olivia,” he said, “Perrin has just reminded me that we’re dining to-night at the Governor’s. It won’t tire you?”
“Tire me? Of course it won’t.”
“You would like to go?”
“We both want to go. Tom’s going to sing ‘Twankydillo.’ We may have enough ladies for a dance.”
“We shall probably sail, directly we come aboard to-night.”