"In which direction lies Estwich?" she asked, lifting her gaze to meet his eyes; but they avoided her as he answered, busy fumbling with a girth that required no adjustment:
"Over yonder,"—making a slight movement with his head. Then taking his horse by the head he said heartily:
"Awfully sorry you won't accept my hospitality; but if you won't you won't, and we'll try to find a short cut."
He led his horse out of the path straight ahead through the woods, and she walked beside him.
"Of course you know the way, Mr. Cardemon?" she said pleasantly.
"I ought to—unless the undergrowth has changed the looks of things since I've been through."
"How long is it since you've been through?"
"Oh, I can't just recollect," he said carelessly. "I guess it will be all right."
For a while they walked steadily forward among the trees; he talking to her with a frank and detached amiability, asking about the people at Estwich, interested to hear that the small house-party had disintegrated, surprised to learn that the countess had gone to town.
"Are you entirely alone in the house?" he asked; and his eyes seemed to protrude a little more than usual.