CHAPTER LIX.
A CASUAL MEETING ON THE RIVER.
A merry breakfast-table. Sibylla, for a wonder, up, and present at it. The rain of the preceding day, the storm of the night had entirely passed away, and as fine a morning as could be wished was smiling on the earth.
"Which of you went out before the storm was over, and ventured under the great yew-tree?"
It was Mrs. Verner who spoke. She looked at the different gentlemen present, and they looked at her. They did not know what she meant.
"You were under it, one of you," persisted Sibylla.
All, save one, protested that they had neither been out nor under the tree. That one—it happened to be Mr. Gordon, of whom casual mention has been made—confessed to having been on the lawn, so far as crossing it went; but he did not go near the tree.
"I went out with my cigar," he observed, "and had strolled some distance from the house when the storm came on. I stood in the middle of a field and watched it. It was grandly beautiful."
"I wonder you were not brought home dead!" ejaculated Sibylla.