"I have a vague recollection of something white and fluffy hanging to the skirt of your gown, that I used to tread upon."
"Yes, you were horrid. You very nearly killed him. Shall we go?"
"Please, please, please, mother dearest. I am ready this instant. Three o'clock. We shall get there at half-past, and if we loiter looking at white kittens, or the mother of potential kittens, till half-past four, she will give us tea, and we can make an afternoon of it."
"Hadn't I better put on a bonnet, Allan?"
"No, no. You will go in your hat, just as you are. You will treat her without the slightest ceremony—treat her as your daughter. Do you know, mother, I am uncommonly glad you never honoured me with a sister."
"Why, Allan?"
"Because, if I marry Suzette, she will be your only daughter. There will be no one to be jealous of her, in Suffolk or here."
"What a foolish fancy! Well, give me a daughter as soon as you like. I am getting old, Allan, and your father's secluded habits leave me very often alone. His books are more his companions than I am——"
"Ah, but you know how he loves you, mother," interrupted Allan.
They were on their way to the gate by this time, Lady Emily in her travelling-hat and loose tan gloves, just as she had been going about the gardens and meadows in the morning, Allan twirling his stick in very gladness of heart.