“Don't tempt me, or I shall come.”
“Tell us what is your weakness, Miss Nora,” said Jack. “How can we get you to come?”
“My weakness?” cried the girl eagerly, “you all are, and especially your dear Sweeper dog there.” She put her arms around the neck of the beautiful setter, who was frantically struggling to get out to her.
“Sweeper, lucky dog, eh, Jack, what?” said Mr. Waring-Gaunt, with a warm smile of admiration at the wholesome, sun-browned face. “Come along, Miss Nora—back in a short time, eh, what?”
“Short time?” said Nora. “Not if I go. Not till we can't see the birds.”
“Can't you come, Nora?” said Mrs. Waring-Gaunt, “I want to talk to you, and we'll drive to-day and let the men shoot. Where is Kathleen? Is she busy?”
“Busy? We are all positively overwhelmed with work. But, oh, do go away, or I shall certainly run from it all.”
“I am going in to get your mother to send you both out. Have you had a gun this fall? I don't believe you have,” said Mrs. Waring-Gaunt.
“Not once. Yes, once. I had a chance at a hawk that was paying too much attention to our chickens. No, don't go in, Mrs. Waring-Gaunt, I beg of you. Well, go, then; I have fallen shamelessly. If you can get Kathleen, I am on too.”
In a few moments Mrs. Waring-Gaunt returned with Kathleen and her mother. “Your mother says, Nora, that she does not need you a bit, and she insists on your coming, both of you. So be quick.”