Asshlin laughed.
"'Pon my soul!" he cried, "you haven't learned your market value yet, Clo! If I were a girl, I'm hanged if I'd rate myself lower than a fourth-century ruin."
He laughed afresh.
But Clodagh displayed no embarrassment. She was too unversed in the ways of coquetry to see or resent the point of the remark.
"I?" she said naively. "What have I to do with it?"
After this there was a trifling silence, at the end of which, Asshlin looked quickly at his guest.
"By the way, James," he exclaimed, "we were too well amused last night to look ahead. I never thought of asking you about to-day. Have you any pet plans or schemes? Is it to be a pilgrimage to St. Galen? Or what do you say to a day in the saddle? There's a meet not five miles away; and if a good gallop pleases you, I have as neat a little horse for you as ever carried a saddle. What do you say? Of course if you think the Round Tower is likely to collapse or be demolished by a tidal wave, I won't raise a finger; but——"
Milbanke laughed.
"My dear Denis," he said quickly, "don't you trouble on my account." He glanced deprecatingly over Asshlin's sporting attire. "Don't you trouble about me. I never was a sportsman, as you know. I'll go to my own hunting, and you go to yours. Don't let me interfere with any plans you may have formed. I enjoy a solitary excursion."
But Asshlin's face darkened.