"I have a great mind, a very great mind, to tell the Listers where he is; they would not stand on ceremony, they would fetch him."
"Brabazon and Oliver would run," says Paul, "and it is too hot for a chase, is it not? Here they are."
Yes, here are the young ladies freshly touzled, freshly repaired, with smart white veils that now stand out jauntily enough from their faces, but will by-and-by stick to them or melt imperceptibly into the same.
"Have you seen Captain Oliver?" asks the one.
"Have you seen Captain Brabazon?" asks the other, looking anxiously about.
They are not looking in the right direction, or they would see the whole of one gentleman's right boot and half of the other gentleman's left eye. They hunt about for a little while, poor souls, and at last, shame forbidding them to take their bonnets off, they set out across the park, quarrelling fiercely as they go, if one may judge by their backs. When the coast is clear the Captains cautiously leave their hiding-place, and make off, looking as pleased as two school-boys.
"When I look at those girls," says Paul, emphatically, “I feel thankful that I have no sisters."
"I am going out into the garden," says Milly, appearing with Fane; "will you come, Nell?"
I fetch my hat, and we all go out together. Husband and wife walk on in front. His arm is round her neck, her arm is half-way round his waist; they lean towards each other like a tall and short weeping willow. It is rather trying to one's gravity to walk behind them, and, catching Paul's eye, I go off into a fit of laughter.
"Do they always behave like that?" I ask. "I never saw them together before, except when they were engaged, and there was some excuse then."
