He mumbled. I mumbled. The Vicar rose from his seat and made for the door.
“Well, we shall see you to lunch to-morrow, Ralph. I have several points to discuss. Delphine, we shall meet at the Parish Room at twelve?”
“Oh! That committee? I suppose so,” Delphine said ungraciously. She tore open her box, helped herself to the largest chocolate in the centre row, and offered me the next choice. Ralph Maplestone took up his hat.
“Oh, for goodness sake, don’t you run away, too! You haven’t a committee. There are heaps of things I want to say still. Ralph”—she went to his side and stared eagerly in his face—“did you mean what you said the other day, about teaching me to ride?”
“Why not?” he said easily. “If you’d care about it, I’d be only too glad. Bess would carry you well, and she’s as safe as a house. You could come up and practise in the park. If I were busy, Jevons could take you round. He’d teach you quite as well, or better, than I should myself.”
“Oh!”—she beamed at him, a picture of happiness—“it will be fine! I’ve always longed to ride. And afterwards, when I’m quite good—I feel it in my bones that I shall be good—will you still—”
He laughed good-naturedly. He is extraordinarily good-natured to Delphine.
“Lend you Bess? Certainly. As often as you like. Do her good to have the exercise.”
“And when I’m very good—very good indeed—will you—”
He shook his head.