"Weren't we?" demanded Barbara.
"I am broken-hearted at going. I dare not tell you how broken-hearted!" replied Robert, gravely. "But until this ride I have been rather unhappy to-day, for you have several times made me feel that you were displeased at my coming!"
Now Barbara hated explanations, and she hated still more to be accused justly. Urging Black Prince to a canter, she retorted:
"I have no patience with you, Robert. I have been an angel to you. Didn't I ride almost half-way home with you, when you were here before? And now, haven't I let you come this perfect ride with me,—when I know Aunt Hitty thought I oughtn't? And you don't deserve that I should even let you talk to me one minute, when you are such a stupid, bigoted Tory."
Robert thought of many things to say in answer to this dashing flank attack; but each answer seemed to carry unknown perils, so he kept a prudent silence. After some time Barbara spoke again, mistaking his silence for contrition.
"Robert," she began, in a voice of thrilling persuasion, "won't you do something I very much want you to do?"
"I can think of no other pleasure to compare with the pleasure of pleasing you, my lady!" he answered, ardently.
"Then, will you not really study, without prejudice, the things that are at the bottom of the trouble between us and King George? You have such a good brain, Robert, I cannot think you will be on the side of a king against your own country, when you have fully informed yourself!"
Robert looked troubled.
"I can honestly promise," said he, "to study the question still more carefully than I have already. But I fear you will still consider me obstinate, even then. If I could imagine myself disloyal to the king, I should not consider myself worthy to profess myself your ever loyal and devoted servant, fair mistress!"