"I should like to see them," say I, decisively; "shall we, general?"
"Will you spare Lady Tempest for five minutes?" says the young man, addressing my husband; "it is not a hundred yards off."
At my words Sir Roger had made a slight movement toward rising; but, at the stranger's, he resettles himself in his chair.
"Will you not come, too? Do!" say I, pleadingly; and, as I speak, I half stretch out my hand to lay it on his arm; then hastily draw it back, afraid and ashamed of vexing him by public demonstrations.
He looks up at me with a smile, but shakes his head.
"I think I am lazy," he says; "I will wait for you here."
We set off; I with a strongish, but unexplained feeling of resentment against my companion.
"Where are they?" I ask, pettishly; "not far off, I hope! I do not fancy I shall care about them!"
"I did not suppose that you would," he replies, in an extremely happy tone; "would you like us to go back?"
"No," reply I, carelessly, "it would not be worth while now we have started."