'Indirectly you did. And although I am willing to be as considerate as any man ought to be in giving you time to think over the question, there is a limit to my patience. Any necessary delay I will put up with, but I won't be trifled with. I hate all nonsense, and can't stand it.' 'Indeed. Good morning.' 'But Mrs. Petherwin--just one word.' 'I have nothing to say.' 'I will meet you at Rouen for an answer. I would meet you in Hades for the matter of that. Remember this: next Wednesday, if I live, I shall call upon you at Rouen.' She did not say nay. 'May I?' he added. 'If you will.' 'But say it shall be an appointment?' 'Very well.' Lord Mountclere was by this time toddling towards them to ask if they would come on to his house, Enckworth Court, not very far distant, to lunch with the rest of the party. Neigh, having already arranged to go on to town that afternoon, was obliged to decline, and Ethelberta thought fit to do the same, idly asking Lord Mountclere if Enckworth Court lay in the direction of a gorge that was visible where they stood. 'No; considerably to the left,' he said. 'The opening you are looking at would reveal the sea if it were not for the trees that block the way. Ah, those trees have a history; they are half-a-dozen elms which I planted myself when I was a boy. How time flies!' 'It is unfortunate they stand just so as to cover the blue bit of sea. That addition would double the value of the view from here.' 'You would prefer the blue sea to the trees?' 'In that particular spot I should; they might have looked just as well, and yet have hidden nothing worth seeing. The narrow slit would have been invaluable there.' 'They shall fall before the sun sets, in deference to your opinion,' said Lord Mountclere. 'That would be rash indeed,' said Ethelberta, laughing, 'when my opinion on such a point may be worth nothing whatever.' 'Where no other is acted upon, it is practically the universal one,' he replied gaily. And then Ethelberta's elderly admirer bade her adieu, and away the whole party drove in a long train over the hills towards the valley wherein stood Enckworth Court. Ethelberta's carriage was supposed by her friends to have been left at the village inn, as were many others, and her retiring from view on foot attracted no notice. She watched them out of sight, and she also saw the rest depart--those who, their interest in archaeology having begun and ended with this spot, had, like herself, declined the hospitable viscount's invitation, and started to drive or walk at once home again. Thereupon the castle was quite deserted except by Ethelberta, the ass, and the jackdaws, now floundering at ease again in and about the ivy of the keep.