‘So do I,’ said the captain, who looked as fresh and cool as if he had just come out of a water-cure establishment; ‘and I detest the people who go about the world mopping themselves and grumbling at the heat on every decent summer day.’
Bella blushed. Mr. Piper had an unpleasant way of mopping his face with a brown and yellow bandanna on warm afternoons. She felt that there must be many habits of his that would jar on Captain Standish’s nerves, if ever they came to be intimate.
The lesson was delightful. The captain was a first-rate master, and after about an hour’s hard work Bella’s arrows began to fly straight to the target, instead of taking a slanting direction and losing themselves under the beeches. This was something gained. Once she went within half an inch of the gold. And then, when her arm began to ache desperately and she was obliged to give up, Captain Standish took her bow, and in the easiest way in the world, just like that famous marksman who drew his bow at a venture, shot three arrows in the gold, in the neatest little triangle.
‘I could write my name on the target,’ he said. ‘It’s the simplest thing in life when you’re used to it.’
Bella looked at her watch. Half-past four o’clock. How the afternoon had flown! She had promised to call for her husband at his club, and the carriage had been ordered for four. She explained her engagement to Captain Standish, who apologized for having detained her so long.
‘I was so pleased with your progress that I forgot all about time,’ he said. ‘May I come to-morrow—a little earlier? I want you to beat the Miss Porkmans next Thursday. You will be shooting on Thursday, I suppose?’
‘Yes, I dare say, if they come. I find archery a great relief on my Thursday afternoons. It is something for people to do. There is so little to talk about in the country. You must find it very trying, Captain Standish.’
The captain shrugged his shoulders.
‘I’m used to country quarters,’ he said. ‘And then in the very depths of Bœotia there are always bright exceptions. But candidly, I don’t care much for what people call society. I like to choose my friends, and when I have chosen them I am an enthusiast in friendship. Now pray put on your bonnet, and don’t let Mr. Piper be kept waiting through my indiscretion in staying so long. I’ll go round to the stable for my horse. May I ride beside your carriage part of the way, if I don’t make too much dust?’
Bella blushed and sparkled at the idea. To have this fine flower of the army, this glass of fashion and mould of form riding beside her barouche was an honour to boast of when next she met the Porkmans. He had never ridden at their chariot wheels. Cæsar’s triumph when he brought home Vercingetorix was not grander than this.