“So you have heard them before! I thought you had only just met casually!” she said, with such a comic look of understanding, but not absolutely pleased. I stupidly got crimson, it did annoy me, because it shows so dreadfully on my skin. She leant back in her chair, and laughed. “It is delightful to shoot five thousand pheasants, Robert,” she said. “Now, isn’t it?” replied Lord Robert. He had finished the bread and butter. Then he told her she was a dear, and he was glad something had suggested to Mr. Campion that he would have other views of living for this week. “You are a joy, Robert!” she said, “but you will have to behave here. None of the tricks you played at Fotherington in October, my child. Aunt Katherine would put you in a corner. Miss Travers has been here a week, and can tell you I am truthful about it.” “Indeed, _yes!_” I said. “But I _must_ know how you got here,” she commanded. Just then, fortunately, Malcolm, who had been hovering near, came up and joined us, and would talk too; but if he had been a table, or a chair, he could not have mattered less to Lord Robert! He is quite wonderful! He is not the least rude, only perfectly simple and direct, always getting just what he wants, with rather an appealing expression in his blue eyes. In a minute or two he and I were talking together, and Malcolm and Lady Verningham a few yards off. I felt so happy. He makes one like that, I don’t know for what reason. “Why did you look so stonily indifferent when I came up,” he asked. “I was afraid you were annoyed with me for coming.” Then I told him about Lady Katherine, and my stupidly not having mentioned meeting him at Branches. “Oh! then I stayed with Christopher after you left--I see,” he said. “Had I met you in London?” “We won’t tell any stories about it. They can think what they please.” “Very well!” he laughed. “I can see I shall have to manœuvre a good deal to talk quietly to you here, but you will stand with me, won’t you, out shooting to-morrow!” I told him I did not suppose we should be allowed to go out, except perhaps for lunch--but he said he refused to believe in such cruelty. Then he asked me a lot of things about how I had been getting on, and what I intended to do next. He has the most charming way of making one feel that one knows him very well, he looks at one every now and then straight in the eyes, with astonishing frankness. I have never seen any person so quite without airs, I don’t suppose he is ever thinking a bit the effect he is producing. Nothing has two meanings with him like with Mr. Carruthers. If he had said I was to stay and marry him, I am sure he would have meant it, and I really believe I should have stayed! “Do you remember our morning packing?” he said, presently, in such a caressing voice. “I was so happy, weren’t you?” I said I was.