Captain Pratt came in, bland, deferential, orchid in button-hole.
It was not until he was actually in the room, his cold appraising eyes upon her, that the poor woman realized that her position towards him had changed. She could not summon up the nonchalant distant civility which, according to her ideas, was sufficient for her country neighbors in general, and the Pratts in particular.
Captain Pratt opined that the weather, though cold, was seasonable.
Lady Newhaven agreed.
Captain Pratt regretted the hard frost on account of the hunting. Four hunters eating their heads off, etc.
Lady Newhaven thought the thaw might come any day.
Captain Pratt had been skating yesterday on the parental flooded meadow. Flooded with fire-engine. Men out of work. Glad of employment, etc.
How kind of Captain Pratt to employ them.
Not at all. It was his father. Duties of the landed gentry, etc. He believed if the frost continued they would skate on Beaumere.
No; no one was allowed to skate on Beaumere. The springs rendered the ice treacherous.