And look what he was giving up. Here was a whole houseful of charming
women all ready to pet him and make much of him; and in their society he
would be at home, dealing with things with which he was familiar. Lady
Sybil would be grateful to him if he helped her with the music she was
arranging for "Alfred: a Masque;" he could be of abundant service, too,
to Lady Rosamund, who was now making individual studies for her large
drawing of "Luncheon on the Twelfth;" though perhaps he could not lend
much aid to Lady Adela, who was understood to be getting on very well
with her new novel. But, at all events, he would be in his own element;
he would be among things that he understood; he would be no trembling
ignoramus adventuring forth into the unknown. And yet when, early in the
morning, the old and sturdy pony was brought round to the door, and when
the brown-bearded Roderick had shouldered the rifle and was ready to set
forth, Lionel had little thought of surrendering his chance to any one
else.
"I call this very shabby treatment," his burly and good-humored host
said, as he stood at the open door. "When a man goes stalking, if
there's a pretty girl in the house, she ought to make her appearance and
give him a little present for good luck.
Pages:
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262