‘We shall be extremely pleased if you will accompany us,’ said Miss Langdale, addressing me; ‘that is, if it will not bore you.’
Bore me indeed! I was in ecstasies.
‘Then, if you will excuse me, I will dress at once.—In the meantime, Lily, you can shew Mr Farquhar the garden. I shall not be long.’
Dear, good lady; she might have been all day at her toilet as far as I was concerned; for was I not at last alone with my fairy! Walking up and down the broad gravel walk, we chatted for some time before I found an opportunity of mentioning a subject to which no allusion whatever had been made since the never-to-be-forgotten day of our journey to Brighton.
‘I ought to apologise,’ I began, ‘for not having before asked after our young fellow-traveller. I hope the baby’——
‘Oh, pray do not mention it,’ cried my companion, a vivid blush overspreading face and throat. ‘I have heard quite enough of that baby, I assure you, already.’
This was startling. But I was destined to be still more perplexed, for she added earnestly: ‘Promise me, Mr Farquhar, never to allude to that subject before my aunt, or Papa when he comes; he will be here on Saturday. So promise me, or I shall never hear the last of it.’
‘You may trust me, indeed you may. But surely you will not refuse to tell me.’
A velvet dress and feathered bonnet now appeared in view, and Miss Langdale approaching, told us that the carriage was at the door. We had a perfectly lovely drive, not dawdling up and down the Parade, but far away over the fresh breezy downs; and when it was over I returned to my rooms a bewitched and bewildered man.
The following Saturday I was introduced to Mr Langdale. He was very cordial, and immediately asked me to dinner. I found him a capital host; and I think we were mutually pleased with the acquaintance.