“Her appearance is all right; the vent must be in her mind,” he said, preparing himself for a great disillusionment as soon as their talk passed out of the ordinary ruts.
“My valet? I didn’t bring him. You might not be able to put him up.”
“I shouldn’t.”
“But is there any one to carry my bag? I’ll carry it myself if you don’t live too far from here.”
“About a mile. We can call at the inn and tell them to send a fly for your bag—if you don’t mind the walk.”
“Mind the walk—and you for companionship? Evelyn, dear, it is delightful to find myself walking with you, and in the country,” he added, looking round.
“The country is prettier farther on.”
Owen looked round without, however, being able to give his attention to the landscape.
“Prettier farther on? But how long have you been here?
