“I didn’t know,” he said, clasping her fingers firmly. “At least, that cannot be true. My ordinary eat–three–meals–a–day, keep–away–from–the–fire–and–you won’t–get–burned wits informed me that you were in far–off Oxfordshire, but some kindly monitor from within, unseen, unheard, yet most worthy of credence, led me here, to your side—may I say—to your very feet.”
Laughing and blushing, and vainly endeavoring to extricate her hand from his grasp—because truly she began to fear that he was drawing her towards him—her first uncontrolled action was to glance around and discover if any passers–by were gazing at them. Instantly she knew she had made a mistake, and the imprisoned hand was snatched away emphatically. If anything, this only added to her confusion, for it bore silent testimony to her knowledge of his loverlike attitude. But she gallantly essayed to retrieve lost ground.
“I was not an hour at home,” she explained volubly, “before Mrs. Baumgartner telegraphed and afterward wrote an entire change of arrangements. I am not going to Milford Haven. Miss Beryl Baumgartner came with some friends to a little place down the coast there, a place called Salcombe, I think, and the Sans Souci arrived there yesterday. They all come on to Plymouth this evening, and they wish me to be ready to go on board about nine o’clock, when we sail for Oban, only stopping twice on the way to coal.”
“Marvelous!” cried Warden. “You reel off amazing statements with the self–possession of a young lady reciting a Browning poem. No, I shall not explain what I mean—not yet, at any rate. The glorious fact prevails that you are free till nine.”
“Free!” she repeated, not that she was at a loss to understand him, but rather to gain time to collect her thoughts.
“Absurd, of course. I mean bound—absolutely bound to me for a superb vista of—let me see—lunch—long drive in country—tea—more driving—dinner.—Ah! let us not look beyond the dinner.”
“But——”
“But me no buts. I shall butt myself violently against any male person who dares to lay prior claim to you, while, should the claimant be a lady, I shall butter her till she relents.”
“Still——”
“I suppose I must listen,” he complained. “Well, what is the obstacle?”