Lady Dunstable, stick in hand, her short
leather-bound skirt showing boots and gaiters of the most business-like
description, came quickly towards the seat on which Meadows sat.
"Mr. Meadows, I summon you for a walk! Sir Luke and Mr. Frome are
coming. We propose to get to the tarn and back before lunch."
The tarn was at least two miles away, a stiff climb over difficult moor.
Meadows, startled from something very near sleep, looked up, and a
spirit of revolt seized upon him, provoked by the masterful tone and
eyes of the lady.
"Very sorry, Lady Dunstable!--but I must write some letters before
luncheon."
"Oh no!--put them off! I have been thinking of what you told me
yesterday of your scheme for your new set of lectures. I have a great
deal to say to you about it."
"I really shouldn't be worth talking to now," laughed Meadows; "this
heat has made me so sleepy. To-night--or after tea--by all means!"
Lady Dunstable looked annoyed.
"I am expecting the Duke's party at tea," she said peremptorily. "This
will be my only chance to-day.
Pages:
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127