“Half-past nine, Miss Violet; don’t forget eleven,” said William, leaning by the window-frame, and looking out upon the bright and beautiful landscape. “I’ll go out just now and put down the hoops.”
“Going to play again to-day,” enquired Miss Perfect briskly; “charming morning for a game—is he coming, William?”
“Yes, at eleven.”
“H’m!” murmured Aunt Dinah, in satisfactory rumination.
And William, not caring to be drawn into another discussion of this interesting situation, jumped from the window upon the sward, and strolled away toward the river.
CHAPTER XV.
DINNER AT REVINGTON.
