"Oh no, of course not."
"Don't be absurd," said Sissy. "Anybody's like anybody if it's pitch dark and they don't speak."
"I rather suspect Horace and I might be alike if it were a half-light, and if we did speak," said Percival. "Remember the photograph. But where is Horace all this time? What have you been doing with yourself?"
"He's somewhere about," said Sissy. "First of all, we had a little croquet. Then it got too dark to play, so I went to see after Aunt Harriet. Her head was worse; so she said she would go to bed."
"Poor old lady! Best thing she could do. She'll be better to-morrow, I hope."
"Then Horace and I thought we would go and look up his old nurse. She has been teasing me ever so long, wanting to see 'Master Horace,' and it's only across a couple of fields. But she wasn't at home, and the cottage was shut up."
"Gone to Fordborough for the day, most likely."
"I dare say. She has a niece there. Then we came back, and Horace didn't much want to go in, because of this afternoon, you know; so we stayed in the long walk, and he smoked and we listened to the nightingales."
"Very delightful," said Percival. "The long walk and the nightingales, I mean."
"And then there was a little pinkish light in the sky, and he thought there was a fire somewhere. So he went into the park to get a better view, and after I had waited for him a little while I came up here and met you."