She turns aside reluctantly to interview her parishioner, and Peggy goes on alone. But it can hardly be said to be tête-à-tête, or without a chaperone, that she puts her hand in Talbot's under the lime-leaves, young and juicy, stirring in the brisk spring wind.
'Oh, Miss Lambton,' cries Lily, 'may not John Talbot come to the Red House too?'
As she speaks the face of the object of her kind patronage falls perceptibly.
'Are you coming to the Red House?' he asks, with a slight accent of disappointment; 'what, both of you?—now?'
'Miss Lambton says we way,' rejoins she, happily innocent of the motive that had prompted her friend's inquiry; 'and we may stay to luncheon, and all afternoon, may not we?'
Peggy laughs.
'We will see about that.'
'And John Talbot may come too?' urges Miss Harborough pertinaciously, making play with her eyelashes; 'he would like to come.'
'And stay to luncheon, and all afternoon?' adds Talbot, emphasising his apparently playful suggestion by a long pressure of the hand he has forgotten to drop.
He has to drop it soon, however; for it is claimed by Franky, as well as one of his own. Franky insists upon walking between his two friends; where, by dragging well at their arms, he is enabled to execute many playful somersaults, and, from under the ægis of their protection, to make faces at his sister; who, having discovered that she can thereby better watch their countenances, is backing before them.