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ng more. "Oh, Ralph, you dear! How angelic of you! I should love it of all things. It's so close and stuffy in this garden. It will be perfectly delicious to have a blow. Which way shall we go?" "If you are not in a hurry we might get as far as the ponds." He paused, frowned, glanced hesitatingly towards me. "Perhaps Miss Wastneys--Is there any special place you would like to see?" "Dearest!" the Vicar's voice broke gently into the conversation, "I'm sorry, but was not it this afternoon you arranged to meet Mrs Rawlins at the `Hall,' to discuss the new coverings for the library books? I think you said half-past five. It is nearly five now. You would not have time." "I can send down word that I can't come. I'll meet her to-morrow at the same time." "I think not." The Vicar's face set; his voice did not lose its gentle tone, but it was full of decision. "I think not. Mrs Rawlins is a busy woman, and she has a long distance to come. You would not wish to inconvenience her for the sake of a trifling pleasure!" Delphine gave him a look, the look of a thwarted child, flushed to the roots of her hair, and turned hastily aside. Open rebellion was useless, but it spoke in every line of her body, every movement of the small, graceful head. I was sorry for her, for being young and feminine myself, I could understand how dull was the claim of linen covers for injured bindings, compared with that swift, exhilarating rush. I looked at the Vicar, and began pleadingly, "Couldn't I--"; then the Squire looked at me, pulled out his watch, and said sharply:-- "Ten minutes to five. Hurry up, Delphine! If you put on your hat at once you can have half an hour. It will freshen you up for your duties. I'll land you at the `Hall,' and"--he switched his eyes on me with a keen, gimlet-like glance--"take Miss Wastneys a little further while you are engaged." I blinked, but did not speak; Delphine frowned; the Vicar said happily, "That will do well. That will do very well! Now, darling, we shall all be pleased!" Deluded man! Two less-pleased-looking females it would have been difficult to find, as we made our way to the house, and up the narrow, twisting staircase. Delphine was injured at the prospective shortness of her drive; I was appalled at the length of mine. Why had he asked me? Why hadn't I refused, and what--oh! what should we ever find to say? "It's always the same thing; if a bit of pleasu
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