"Where are they?" he
said drearily.
"Oh, goodness knows!" said Jack; "when I last saw them he was
beating down the ferns with a stick for Maud to go through. He's
absolutely demented, and she is at one of her games. I think I
shall sheer off, and go to visit some sick people, like the
governor; that's about all I feel up to."
At this moment, however, the truants appeared, walking silently out
of a glade. Howard had an obscure feeling that something serious
had happened--he did not know what. Guthrie looked dejected, and
Maud was evidently preoccupied. "Oh, damn the whole show!" said
Jack, getting up. "Let's get out of this!"
"We lost our way," said Maud, rather hurriedly, "and couldn't find
our way back."
Maud went up to Miss Merry, asked to see her sketch, and indulged
in some very intemperate praise. Guthrie came up to Howard, and
stammered through an apology for his rudeness.
"Oh, don't say anything more," said Howard. "Of course I didn't
mind! It really doesn't matter at all."
The day was beginning to decline; and in an awkward silence, only
broken by inconsequent remarks, the party descended the hill,
regained the carriages, and drove off in mournful silence. As the
Vicarage party drove away, Jack glanced at Howard, raised his eyes
in mock despair, and gave a solemn shake of his head.
Howard followed with Miss Merry, and talked wildly about the future
of English poetry, till they drove in under the archway of the
Manor and his penance was at an end.
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