"Have I put my foot into it? You don't know how sorry I am," said Gerald warmly. "I wouldn't have done it for worlds; but I didn't like him to come down and spend the evening alone in Worthing. I thought we could dine at Pulborough, and go home at leisure by moonlight."
"Well, promise me one thing—you won't sit in front with Baines and leave me behind with him, will you?" she begged. "I really couldn't bear that. You don't know what an outsider he is."
He was fervent in his protestations that she should not be left to the society of the dashing Percy. He was a good deal put out by her evident distaste of the whole arrangement. He had never heard her speak so decidedly about any one in her life as she expressed herself with regard to Ferris.
The talk was put a stop to by their arrival in the narrow lane where a small finger-post announced: "This way to the Roman Villa."
They paused, alighted; Gerald put a wrap over his arm for her, gave his final instructions to Baines, and the car hurried on to the forge, where the width of the road permitted it to turn and run back along the lane by which they had come.
"He will be out on the high road in two or three miles, and then he can let her rip," said Gerald; "but he can't be back for an hour, so we will take things easy."
They leisurely ascended the grassy field which leads to the carefully covered-in and precious pavements.
Then for a while Virgie forgot everything in the delight of examining this wonderful relic of a bygone civilisation. The sweet-faced, elderly lady who is custodian of the place, and speaks of it with reverence and fervour which are infectious, warmed towards the beauty and enthusiasm of this visitor. She showed her all that was to be seen, and explained each small detail of plan and execution. Virgie reconstructed in her own mind the entire existence of the wealthy officials, exiled from all that constituted their world, and cast away among these barbarian British in a fold of the Sussex hills, far, as it seemed, from all communication with their kind. Then, pointing across the valley to the romantic swell of the southern Downs, the custodian told how Stane Street, the great Roman highway, had crossed the hills from Chichester, just opposite where they stood. The Roman noble's sentinels must have seen every figure, every horseman, as he topped the rise, and have kept him in sight as he approached, the whole way into the valley. All gone! Even the semblance of the track wiped out! It would be ten miles before Baines would strike the still surviving section of the Roman road.
The hour was nearly expired when they had seen all, and they strolled away to find somewhere to sit down until the car's return. Finally they sat upon the grass, Gerald's raincoat under them, near the lane, and watched the sunset fade from the sky.
Gerald reverted to the coming of Ferris, and said how sorry he was to have made so stupid a plan. Virgie answered with impulsive penitence. She could not think how she came to be so disagreeable about a trifle—when he had given her this glorious day, and shown her such grand things, when she owed all her pleasure to him. She felt ashamed of herself.