Milbanke looked from one to the other in nervous misery.
"Certainly not—certainly not, my dear!" he agreed. "You are tired; you have been doing too much." He peered at her through the softly falling twilight with a look of helpless concern.
She felt, rather than saw the look; and that sensitive dread of being rendered conspicuous that attacks us all in early life, caused her to shrink into herself.
"Nonsense!" she said a little coldly. "I am perfectly well. Please go and see Mr. Tomes's archway. I don't mind being left alone. I would like to be left alone."
Milbanke stirred uneasily.
"Of course, my dear, if you wish it!" he murmured. "Mr. Tomes, shall we—— Are you ready——"
He waved his hand towards the canal.
Mr. Tomes drew his loose limbs together, and bowed formally to Clodagh.
"Certainly, if you wish it, Mr. Milbanke!" he said stiffly; and walked off along the terrace.
Milbanke did not follow him at once. He stood looking at his wife in pained uncertainty.