‘Here they come. To which of my two admirers shall I devote myself to-day?’ she simpered. ‘Why not endeavour to play one off against the other, and so excite a little jealousy? It is so nice to make the men jealous. Poor dear Sir Timothy never would be jealous; but then he was so very stupid!’
Miss Gaisford was the first to speak. ‘We were just wondering what had become of you, Lady Renshaw.’
‘I lingered here to drink in this fairy scene. It is indeed too, too exquisitely beautiful.’
‘If they would only turn on a little more water at the top of the cliff it would be an improvement,’ answered Miss Pen.—‘Septimus, you might inquire whether they can’t arrange it specially for us to-day.’
‘My dear!’ protested the vicar with mild-eyed amazement.
‘Maybe, like myself,’ remarked the doctor, ‘your ladyship is a worshipper of beautiful scenery?’
‘O yes. I dote on it—I revel in it. After I lost poor dear Sir Timothy, I went to Switzerland, in the hope of being able to distract my mind by travel. Those darling Alps, I shall always feel grateful to them!’
‘What did the Alps do for you, Lady Renshaw?’ queried Miss Pen with the utmost gravity.
‘They gave me back my peace of mind; they poured consolation into my lacerated heart.’
‘Very kind of them—very kind indeed,’ answered Miss Pen drily.