Lady Renshaw had turned, and was gazing through her eyeglass. ‘Really, my love, the view from this spot is too utterly exquisite,’ she said. ‘Such luminosity of atmosphere—such spontaneity of sunshine! Observe that magnificent effect of chiaro-oscuro among the hills. Quite Ruskinesque. I dote on nature—especially in her wilder moods.’
‘No doubt nature is infinitely obliged to your ladyship,’ murmured Richard under his breath.
Bella seemed as if she could not keep her eyes off him. ‘He has shaved off his darling beard and moustache, and come all this way on purpose to be near me!’ she mused. ‘Does any one else care enough for me to do as much as that? Heigh-ho! why is he so poor?’
‘And now, dear, I think we had better go indoors,’ said her ladyship blandly. ‘The heat is somewhat trying.’ Then turning to Dick: ‘We shall probably meet again, Mr—er—Mr—?’
‘Golightly, madam. Mr Richard Golightly, at your service.’
‘—— At the table-d’hôte, or somewhere, Mr Golightly.’ This very graciously.
‘I trust, madam, to have the honour,’ and Mr Dulcimer bowed deeply.
‘O you wicked boy!’ murmured Bella.
‘The old she-dragon suspects nothing,’ said the wicked boy to himself with a chuckle as soon as the ladies had turned their backs.
‘A Golightly, my dear,’ remarked Lady Renshaw to her niece. ‘There are several good families of that name. One in Devon and another in York. The young man may be worth cultivating. I hope you will endeavour to make yourself agreeable to him.’