“And if she should take it into her head to call upon us?”
“Return it, and let the acquaintance drop.”
Flora’s love of the ridiculous was her besetting sin. She continued to watch the movements of Miss Carr with mischievous interest, and was as anxious for an interview as Lyndsay was that she should keep her distance. Flora pressed her hand tightly on her husband’s arm, scarcely able to keep her delight in due bounds, while she whispered, in a triumphant aside, “John, I was right. She is shaping her course to our side of the road. She means to speak to us,—and now for it!”
Lyndsay looked annoyed. Flora with difficulty repressed her inclination to laugh out, as Miss Carr came alongside, and verified Mrs. Lyndsay’s prediction, by commencing the conversation in a loud-toned, but rather musical voice,
“A bright afternoon for your walk.”
“Beautiful for the time of year,” said Flora.
“Rather hot for stout people like me. You seem to enjoy it amazingly.”
“I am fond of walking. I do not find the heat oppressive.”
“Ah, yes; you are thin. Have not much bulk to carry; one of Pharaoh’s lean kine. It requires a warm day to make your blood circulate freely. I like winter and spring best for long rambles.”
“I should think you would prefer riding,” said Lyndsay; “yet I see you out every day on foot.”