“Come, Mrs. Mary,” he urged her, “what do you say? Will you let me look after you for this once? Will you please to remember that never once since we have known each other—how many years?—have we had a whole day together? Extraordinary fact.”
“It’s quite true,” she reflected, “we never have. Once we very nearly did, though.”
“Twice,” he corrected her; but she could not admit that. Well, which was her instance?
It was long ago, when she had been at Misperton—had been some six months there. One Midsummer Day—surely he remembered! He had promised to take her to Glastonbury; the dog-cart was to meet them at Clewgate station——
“Ah, yes,” he cried—“And I called for you—and you were ready—in a brown holland frock——”
“Had I a brown holland? I remember that I was quite ready. And then a note came down from Mrs. James——”
“Beloved Mrs. James——”
“And you pretended to be angry——”
“Pretended! Oh, my dearest friend—I swore.”
“I know you did. And I——”