“Just in time, Mr. Redgrave,” said that young lady; “we were uncertain whether you were not accustomed to be aroused by a gong. Bells are very old-fashioned, we know.”
“I doubt whether anything would have awakened me an hour since. I am a reasonably early riser generally; but the ride and the extreme comfort of my bedroom led to a little laziness. But where’s Stangrove?”
“I blush to say he went off early to count a flock of sheep,” said Miss Stangrove, with assumed regret. “You must accustom yourself to our aboriginal ways for a time. But is it not dreadful to think of? I hope you extracted a total recantation from him last night.”
“We only made a commencement of the game last night,” said Jack. “Your brother advanced a pawn or two, but we agreed to defer the grand attack until after a ride round the run, which I believe takes place to-day.”
“I am afraid you will have a hot ride; but I don’t pity you for that. Anything is better than staying indoors day after day, week after week, as we wretched women have to do. You might tell Mark if he sees my horse to have her brought in. I feel as if I should like a scamper. Oh! here he comes to answer for himself. Well, Mark, how many killed, wounded, and missing?”
“Good morning, Mr. Redgrave,” said Stangrove, smiling rather lugubriously at his sister’s pleasantry. “I am afraid you are just in time to remark on one of the weak points of my management. A shepherd came before daylight to say that his flock had been lost since the day before. I have been hunting for them these five hours.”
“And have you brought any home?” inquired Mrs. Stangrove.
“None at all,” he answered.
“Did you see any?” persisted the lady, who seemed rather of an anxious disposition.
“Yes—ten.”