I suppose it was scarcely a courteous speech. But Mrs. Sloman smiled a white-lipped smile of sympathy, and said, "Yes; I will go and send her to you."
"Oh, don't hurry her," I said falsely, hoping, however, that she would.
Did I say before that Bessie was tall? Though so slight that you always wanted to speak of her with some endearing diminutive, she looked taller than ever that morning; and as she stood before me, coming up to the fireplace where I was standing, her eyes looked nearly level into mine. I did not understand their veiled expression, and before I had time to study it she dropped them and said hastily, "Young man, I am pining for a walk."
"In the rain?"
"Pshaw! This is nothing, after all, but a Scotch mist. See, I am dressed for it;" and she threw a tartan cloak over her shoulder—a blue-and-green tartan that I had never seen before.
"The very thing for shipboard," I whispered as I looked at her admiringly.
Her face was flushed enough now, but she made no answer save to stoop down and pat the silly little terrier that had come trotting into the room with her.
"Fidget shall go—yes, he shall go walking;" and Fidget made a gray ball of himself in his joy at the permission.
Up the hill again we walked, with the little Skye terrier cantering in advance or madly chasing the chickens across the road.
"Did you finish your letter satisfactorily?" I asked, for I was fretting with impatience to know its contents.