At Love's Cost - Page 119/342

"Sit somewhere in the shade with a book," she replied, promptly but

slowly.

There was a shout of laughter.

"That is just what Mr. Howard replied," said Bertie, complainingly.

"Oh, Mr. Howard! Everyone knows that he is the laziest man in the whole

world," remarked Lady Clansford, plaintively. "What is Mr. Orme going

to do? Where is he? Does anyone know?"

There was a general shaking of heads and a chorus of "Noes."

"I had a swim with him this morning, but I've not seen him since," said

Bertie. "It's no use waiting for Orme; he mightn't turn up till

dinner-time. Miss Falconer, if I promise not to drown you, will make

one for the yacht? The man told me it would be all ready."

She shook her head as she helped herself to a couple of strawberries.

"No, thanks," she said, with her musical drawl. "I know what that

means. You drift into the middle of the lake or the river, the wind

drops, and you sit in a scorching sun and get a headache. Please leave

me out. I shall stick to my original proposal. Perhaps, if you don't

drown anyone this time, I may venture with you another day."

She leant back and smiled at them under her lids, as the discussion

flowed and ebbed round her, with an air of placid contempt and wonder

at their excitement; and presently, murmuring something to Lady

Clansford, who, as chaperone and deputy hostess was trying to coax them

into some decision, she rose and went out to the terrace.

There, lying back in a deck-chair, in a corner screened from any

possible draught by the glass verandah, was Mr. Howard with one of Sir

Stephen's priceless Havanas between his lips, a French novel in his

hand, and a morning paper across his knees. He rose as she approached,

and checking a sigh of resignation, offered her his chair.

"Oh, no," she said, with a smile which showed that she knew what the

effort of politeness cost him. "You'd hate me if I took your chair, I

know; and though, of course, I don't in the least care whether you hate

me or not, I shouldn't like putting you to the trouble of so exhaustive

an emotion."

Howard smiled at her with frank admiration.

"Let's compromise it," he said. "I'll drag that chair up here--it's out

of the sun, you know--so, and arrange these cushions so, and put up the

end for your feet so, and--how is that, Miss Falconer?"