"Where did you drop from?" asked Georgia, not exactly delighted at the interruption.
"Not from the clouds, Lady Georgia. I went to the cottage, and learned from Miss Jerusha that teacher and pupil had gone off sky-gazing and 'makin' pictures. At the risk of being de trop, I followed, and here I am. Where's Monsieur le Tutor?"
"Gone home," said Georgia, listlessly.
"And left you here all by yourself! How shockingly ungallant! Now, I thought better things of the lord of Richmond Hall. What do you think of him, Georgia?"
"Of whom?"
"Of whom! You know well enough. Of Mr. Wildair."
"I have formed no opinion on the subject."
"Well, that's odd. I have, and I think him a splendid fellow—so gentlemanly, and all that. I wonder what he thinks of us?"
"He thinks you are a good girl, and I am a dreamer."
"A good girl! Well, that's very moderate praise, blank and cool, but just as much as I want. And you are a dreamer—I knew that before. Will you ever awaken, Georgia?"