"My good fellow," cried Captain Ponsonby, "I am before you half a minute, and have won the prize."
"I cannot understand why you persevere so pertinaciously in appropriating Miss Wetheral, Ponsonby."
"Can you, indeed, be ignorant upon such a point, Farnborough? Take care, Miss Wetheral—step firmly, and hold my hand."
"I must observe that you are needlessly officious, Ponsonby."
"Tell me so elsewhere, Farnborough; at present, I am attending upon Miss Wetheral."
Christobelle looked imploringly at Sir John Spottiswoode, but he was uncloaking Fanny Ponsonby, and she had taken his arm, to share with him the shelter of his umbrella. Christobelle cared not, then, who became her escort. Captain Ponsonby would not understand Lord Farnborough's anger, or reply to his observations; he chatted gaily, as he unclasped the heavy boat-cloak, which shrouded and encumbered Miss Wetheral's figure.
"In spite of the storm, Miss Wetheral, you spring brightly from your nest, untouched by the raindrops; how do you manage to be so unlike the rest of the world? We will not wait for the other boat, which would detain us some time. Let me get you safely to Clanmoray. Take my arm fearlessly, and I will guide and support you up the pathway. Farnborough will be kind enough to escort the Miss Greys."
Lord Farnborough threw a haughty look at Captain Ponsonby, but he made no answer. His lordship folded his cloak round his tall, slight figure, and ascended the pathway in silence, and without a companion. The Miss Greys remained unattended on the shore of Lochleven.
"Farnborough is offended in earnest," observed Captain Ponsonby, "and the gentle syrens are to suffer. Miss Wetheral, you have put a feud between me and my noble guest."
"I am sorry, Captain Ponsonby, if any thing unpleasant should arise between you and my lord. It is altogether innocently done on my part."