The still cloudy sky seemed only pleasantly grey, the bare moorland broke out into patches of contrasting colour; her boots grew into a merry joke as she confided to Major Winchester that her feet felt as if they could walk about inside them, and, when at his suggestion the unnecessary waterproof was discarded and relegated to his arm, she felt herself like a chrysalis emerging into a butterfly.
And her brightness reacted on her companion. His grave, quiet face lightened up with pleasure at the success of his endeavours, and encouraged him to redouble them. They cost him something, for he had to the full as absorbing matter for his own reflections as Florence; indeed, in some sense, more so, and he would have hailed with relief the prospect of a solitary stroll this afternoon, or if that were impossible, the companionship and distraction of intelligent and matured minds. Even Mrs Wyngate, who was well read and cultivated, and Florence herself, who was not without thoughtfulness and originality, would have been more congenial by far than this little schoolgirl, sweet and ingenuous though she was. But Major Winchester was never one to shirk a task savouring of duty or kindliness on account of its cost. He racked his brains to amuse his young companion, recalling reminiscences of his eventful and adventurous life, going back to his school-boy days even, till Imogen’s ringing laughter sounded back to the three in the rear.
“Rex is excelling himself,” said Florence, with a touch of sarcasm in her tone.
“How very kind-hearted he is!” said Mrs Wyngate, simply and warmly. “For a girl of that age is scarcely an interesting companion to a man of his standing, at least, not to a man like him, entirely above flirting or nonsense of that kind.”
“Yes,” Oliver agreed, “you’re about right. It’s all his good-nature. For though she’s pretty, she’s rather heavy—a bit spoilt too, I fancy.”
“By her adoring mamma,” added Florence.
“However, she’s our guest, and we must look after her, heavy or not. Don’t you think Rex must be beginning to have had about enough of it by this time? We had better overtake them; we are close to the caves too.”
Rex was beginning to feel his self-imposed task a little wearisome by this time, and he was not sorry when a shout from Oliver called to him to stop.
“Oh, what a bother!” said Imogen. “I did so want to hear the rest of that story, Major Winchester. Need we walk with them?”
“It would scarcely be civil to walk on,” he said smiling. “I will tell you the rest another time, Miss Wentworth.”