"Don't _fuss_! If I want cream, I can ask for it. Some people have no tact. Why wasn't breakfast set in the garden? Nobody thinks of anything in this house, unless I see after it myself... Let's have a picnic lunch!" Martin looked at the Squire, the Squire looked at Martin. Their plans were made for a long day's golf, and each felt a pang of anticipatory regret; moreover, each hated picnics, with a true man's hatred. Grizel's quick eyes caught the glance, and had no difficulty in understanding its meaning. It seemed indeed that she was thankful of an opportunity to snap. "Pray, don't trouble yourselves. We don't want anyone to come on sufferance. Captain Peignton will look after Teresa, and Cassandra and I are perfectly happy alone. Go off on your horrid old golf. We don't want you!" "I apologise for my wife, Raynor. She is usually quite polite to her visitors. Just a little atmospheric disturbance. Take no notice. She'll be sorry by and by." Grizel looked across the table, and made two separate and deliberate grimaces, one at the Squire, the other at her husband. "That's nothing to what I can do, if I choose! Better be careful! Captain Peignton, do _you_ want to come? You're engaged, of course, and engaged men used to wish to be with their _fiancees_, but that's all changed since they began to play golf. I'm a bride of six months, and my husband vowed before hundreds of witnesses to cherish me all his life, and you see how he scowls if I ask him to spare me an hour! Teresa, be warned by me, and break it off unless he gives up golf. I hate and detest golf. Golf has ruined my life. We'll look after you, Teresa dear, don't worry! We'll have chicken and mayonnaise, and fruit and lemonade, and Cassandra and I will dry your tears." "But I'm coming; I want to come!" Peignton assured her. "It's too hot for golf, and a picnic would be good fun if we can find a spot where there's some air, and not too much undergrowth. I like to eat at a picnic, not to be eaten myself. I was up half a dozen times last night anointing myself with ammonia." "I know a place. I spotted it a week ago. Just beyond Queensdom, the cliff shelves steeply and leaves a patch of shade open to all the air there is. It's quite a short walk,--a mile or a mile and a half; the servants can leave the baskets, and come back for their own lunch, and in the afternoon we'll sleep, Cassandra and I, and discuss the iniquities of husbands, while you two go off on your lone, and come back to us for tea... What it is to be engaged!" Teresa smiled happily, Martin raised his eyes to the ceiling in tragic self-vindication. "_Who_ is always holding forth on the necessity of exercise? _Who_ is always warning me against the danger of a sedentary life? _Who_ insisted upon a house near to golf links? _Who_ goads me every night of her life to arrange a match for the next day?"