"Of
course there is a little danger, but who is going to be stopped by
that?"
He could make no reply to this because the Duchess called him away
to give some account to Lady Chiltern about Goarly and the U.R.U.,
Lady Chiltern's husband being a master of hounds and a great
authority on all matters relating to hunting. "Nasty old dragon!"
Arabella said to herself when she was thus left alone.
The Saturday was the day of the great shooting and at two o'clock
the ladies went out to lunch with the gentlemen by the side of the
wood. Lord Rufford had at last consented to be one of the party.
With logs of trees, a few hurdles, and other field appliances, a
rustic banqueting hall was prepared and everything was very nice.
Tons of game had been killed, and tons more were to be killed after
luncheon. The Duchess was not there and Arabella contrived so to
place herself that she could be waited upon by Lord Rufford, or
could wait upon him. Of course a great many eyes were upon her, but
she knew how to sustain that. Nobody was present who could dare to
interfere with her. When the eating and drinking were over she
walked with him to his corner by the next covert, not heeding the
other ladies; and she stood with him for some minutes after the
slaughter had begun. She had come to feel that the time was
slipping between her fingers and that she must say something
effective.
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