Then she said a demure word or two to
the gentleman on the other side of her who happened to be a
clergyman, and did not return to the hunting till Lord Rufford had
eaten his cheese. "And is that to be the end of Jack as far as I'm
concerned?"
"I have been thinking about it ever since. This is Thursday."
"Not a doubt about it."
"To-morrow will be Friday and the Duke has his great shooting on
Saturday. There's nothing within a hundred miles of us on Saturday.
I shall go with the Pytchley if I don't shoot, but I shall have to
get up just when other people are going to bed. That wouldn't suit
you."
"I wouldn't mind if I didn't go to bed at all."
"At any rate it wouldn't suit the Duchess. I had meant to go away
on Sunday. I hate being anywhere on Sunday except in a railway
carriage. But if I thought the Duke would keep me till Tuesday
morning we might manage Peltry on Monday. I meant to have got back
to Surbiton's on Sunday and have gone from there."
"Where is Peltry?"
"It's a Cottesmore meet,--about five miles this Side of Melton."
"We could ride from here."
"It's rather far for that, but we could talk over the Duke to send
a carriage. Ladies always like to see a meet, and perhaps we could
make a party. If not we must put a good face on it and go in
anything we can get. I shouldn't fear the Duchess so much for
twelve miles as I should for twenty.
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