"First detachment of what?"
"Of your family. I understood you to say that there were to be relays of them during all Sir Roger's absence."
"It is to be hoped so, I am sure," I say, devoutly; "especially" (looking up at him with mock reproach) "considering the way in which my friends neglect me. You never came, after all! No!" (seeing the utter unsmilingness of his expression, and speaking hastily), "I am not serious; I am only joking! No doubt you heard that they had come, and thought that you would be in the way. But, indeed you would not. We had no secrets to talk; we should not have minded you a bit."
"I did hear that they had arrived," he answers, still speaking ungraciously, "but even if I had not, I should not have come!"
I look up in his face, and laugh.
"You forgot? Ah, I told you you would!"
"I did not forget."
Again I look up at him, this time in honest astonishment, awaiting the solution of his enigma.
"There is no particular use in making one's self cheap, is there?" he says, with a bitter little laugh. "What is the use of going to a place where you are told that any one else will do as well?"
A pause. I walk along in silent wonderment. So he actually was happy again! We have left the church-yard. We are in the road, between the dusty quicks of the hedgerows. The carriages bowl past us, whirling clouds of dust down our throats. One is trotting by now, a victoria and pair of grays, and in it, leaning restfully back, and holding up her parasol, is the lady I noticed in church. Musgrave knows her apparently. At least, he takes off his hat.