Cecil lay on the bear-skin in her canoe, with her hat over her face, declaring it too hot to eat, but consuming, under protest, a croquette occasionally tossed in for her sustenance. Miss Prosody, quite genial and urbane after luncheon, was deep in consultation with the boatman as to the locality of certain ferns she proposed spudding up for her pet rockery at "The Maples," where her lighter hours were diurnally spent in washing and tending her spoils.
"I suppose this is all very sylvan and jolly," said Lilla, handing the remnants of the refection to the boatman; "yet somehow, candidly, it's slow."
"Possibly," said Cecil, "it is the absence of the other sex that makes you find it so?"
"Perhaps," said Lilla, frankly, with furtive enjoyment of Miss Prosody's stiffening face. "Well, ladies, I should like my little smoke; can I offer anybody one? You will find them very mild,"—and she drew forth a neat case of Latakia cigarettes, selected one, and, striking a match on the heel of her boot, lit it.
"Of course, if you choose to be so unlady-like, we cannot prevent you," said the governess, icily.
"Dear me!" said Lilla, innocently, "I never dreamt of your objecting; for I have heard you tell Colonel Rolleston, when he has been smoking, how fond you were of it in the open air."
"Colonel Rolleston would most decidedly disapprove of your doing it."
"He does, I believe, of most of my actions; but he is very kind to me all the same. Look at this wretch of a mosquito actually stinging through my glove. I'll just touch him up with the red ash of my cigar."
Miss Prosody knew of old that Lilla was incorrigible, and, having no hope of support from Cecil in any attempt to snub her, resolved to discountenance the proceeding by going away, and summoned the children from their tree, who were quite ready for a fresh start. The girls declared it was too hot to move. Lilla continued to puff away lazily, the zest rather gone now there was nobody to be shocked at it. Bluebell, mingling her voice with the birds, was singing the "Danube River," while Cecil, with shut eyes, lay in her canoe, and gave herself up to the dreamy music, till, aroused by its sudden cessation, she looked up, and saw a boat half checked in its speed, and Major Fane and Jack Vavasour doffing their billy-cock hats.
Cecil's return bow was freezing, and Major Fane, who had rested irresolutely a moment on his oars, shot the boat on with vigorous pulls. She felt half penitent as she saw his discomfited face, but her coldness arose from having become alive to a possible danger.