XXVI
’BE-N EIRINN I!
Barres senior rose with the sun. Also with determination, which took the form of a note slipped under his wife’s door as he was leaving the house:
“Darling:
“I lost last night’s fishing and I’m hanged if I lose it to-night! So don’t ask me to fritter away a perfectly good evening at the Gerhardt’s party, because the sun is up; I’m off to the woods; and I shall remain there until the last trout breaks.
“Tell the little Soane girl that I left a rod for her in the work-room, if she cares to join me at the second lake. Garry can bring her over and leave her if he doesn’t wish to fish. Don’t send a man over with a lot of food and shawls. I’ve a creel full of provisions, and I am sufficiently clad, and I hate to be disturbed and I am never grateful to people who try to be good to me. However, I love you very dearly.
“Your husband,
“Reginald Barres.”
At half past seven trays were sent to Mrs. Barres and to Lee; and at eight-thirty they were in the saddle and their horses fetlock deep in morning dew.
Dulcie, sipping her chocolate in bed, marked their departure with sleepy eyes. For the emotions of the night before had told on her, and when a maid came to remove the tray she settled down among her pillows 350 again, blinking unresponsively at the invitation of the sun, which cast over her a fairy net of gold.
Thessalie, in negligée, came in later and sat down on the edge of her bed.
“You sleepy little thing,” she said, “the men have breakfasted and are waiting for us on the tennis court.”
“I don’t know how to play,” said Dulcie. “I don’t know how to do anything.”
“You soon will, if you get up, you sweet little lazy-bones!”
“Do you think I’ll ever learn to play tennis and golf and to ride?” inquired Dulcie. “You know how to do everything so well, Thessa.”