I found Sylvia's fellow-guest a very quiet young girl, and understood
that she lived somewhere in the Midlands. Her father, she told me, was
very fond of hunting, and she rode to hounds a good deal.
We wandered about the garden awaiting Shuttleworth's return, for both
girls would not hear of me leaving before tea.
"Mr. and Mrs. Shuttleworth are certain to be back in time," Sylvia
declared, "and I'm sure they'd be horribly annoyed if you went away
without seeing them."
"Do you really wish me to stay?" I asked, with a laugh, as we halted
beneath the shadow of the great spreading cedar upon the lawn.
"Of course we do," declared Elsie, laughing. "You really must remain
and keep us company, Mr. Biddulph. Sylvia, you know, is quite a
stranger. She's always travelling now-a-days. I get letters from her
from the four corners of the earth. I never know where to write so as
to catch her."
"Yes," replied my well-beloved, with a slight sigh. "When we were at
school at Eastbourne I thought it would be so jolly to travel and see
the world, but now-a-days, alas! I confess I'm already tired of it. I
would give anything to settle down quietly in the beautiful country in
England--the country which is incomparable."
"You will--one day," I remarked meaningly.