'What rot!' cried Reginald. 'I should be rather sorry for myself if I were not able to manage Robin.'
'This is a new development in you, who are generally the laziest of living creatures,' said Bessie to Brian, and before he could reply, Robin was bounding cheerily through the village, making very little account of the jaunting-car and its occupants. Urania was at her garden gate, fresh and elegant-looking in pale blue cambric. She smiled at Ida, and waved her a most gracious farewell.
'I don't think I ever saw Miss Rylance look so amiable,' said Ida. 'She does not often favour me with her smiles.'
'Are you enemies?' asked Brian.
'Not open foes; we have always maintained an armed neutrality. I don't like her, and she doesn't like me, and we both know it. But perhaps I ought not to be so candid. She may be a favourite of yours.'
'She might be, but she is not. She is very elegant, very lady-like—according to her own lights—very viperish.'
It was a lovely drive in the crisp clear air, across the breezy hills. Ida could not help enjoying the freshness of morning, the beauty of earth, albeit she was going from comfort to discomfort, from love to cold indifference or open enmity.
'How I delight in this landscape!' she exclaimed. 'Is it not ever so much better than Norway?' appealing to Brian.
'It is a milder, smaller kind of beauty,' he answered. 'Would you not like to see Norway?'
'I would like to see all that is lovely on earth; yet I think I could be content to spend a life-time here. This must seem strange to you, who grow weary of that beautiful Abbey.'