"Just as he was, I think, a little low, the Doctor says."
"Ah!" said Varbarriere, and still his dark eyes looked on hers with grave inquiry.
"He always is low for a day or two; but he says this will be nothing. He almost hopes to be down this evening."
"Ah! Yes. That's very well," commented Varbarriere, with pauses between, and his steady, clouded gaze unchanged.
"We are going to the garden; are you ready, darling?" said she to Miss Blunket.
"Oh, quite," and she skipped to the door, smiling this way and that, as she stood in the sun on the step. "Sweet day," and she looked back on Beatrix and the invitation, glanced slightly on Drayton, who looked loweringly after them unmoved, and thought—
"Why the plague does she spoil her walks with that frightful old humbug? There's no escaping that creature."
We have only conjecture as to which of the young ladies, now running down the steps, Mr. Drayton's pronouns referred to.
"You fish to-day?" asked Varbarriere, on whose hands time dragged strangely.
"We were thinking of going down to that pretty place Gryston. Linnett was there on Saturday morning. It was Linnett's trout you thought so good at luncheon."