"I think he was nice, too, in a way," say I, rather compunctiously. "I used to tell him about all of you, and—I dare say it was pretense—but he seemed to like to hear about you! When I came away, he sent his love to Barbara; he would not send any messages to you boys—he said he hated boys!"
"Humph!"
Another short silence. The elders have gone in to tea. Through the windows, I see the lamplight shining on the tea-cups.
"Algy!" say I, in a rather low voice, edging a little nearer to where he lies gracefully outspread, "you did not mean it, really? You do not think I—I—I—neglected the general, do you?—you do not think I—I—liked to be away from him?"
"My lady!" replies he, teasingly, "I think nothing! I only know what your ladyship was good enough to tell me!"
Then we all get up, shoulder our rugs, and walk in.
CHAPTER XVI.
Well, no one will deny that Sunday comes after Saturday; and it was Saturday evening, when the heavens painted themselves with fire, and the sun lit up all the house-windows to welcome us home. Sunday is not usually one of our blandest days, but we must hope for the best.