That was all I knew of her for the present.
So very pleasantly the time passed by till the dressing-bell rang, and we
ran away to our room.
'Did I say anything very bad?' asked poor Milly, standing exactly before
me, so soon as our door was shut.
'Nothing, Milly; you are doing admirably.'
'And I do look a great fool, don't I?' she demanded.
'You look extremely pretty, Milly; and not a bit like a fool.'
'I watch everything. I think I'll learn it at last; but it comes a little
troublesome at first; and they do talk different from what I used--you were
quite right there.'
When we returned to the drawing-room, we found the party already assembled,
and chatting, evidently with spirit.
The village doctor, whose name I forget, a small man, grey, with shrewd
grey eyes, sharp and mulberry nose, whose conflagration extended to his
rugged cheeks, and touched his chin and forehead, was conversing, no doubt
agreeably, with Mary, as Cousin Monica called her guest.
Over my shoulder, Milly whispered--
'Mr. Carysbroke.'
And Milly was quite right: that gentleman chatting with Lady Knollys, his
elbow resting on the chimney-piece, was, indeed, our acquaintance of the
Windmill Wood.
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