Veronica, who had been in trouble most
of the morning, sat stiffly on the extreme edge of her seat, clothed
in the attitude of one dead to the world; Dick, in lavender gloves
that Robina had thoughtfully bought for him, next to her.
Ethelbertha, Robina, and myself sat perched on the back seat; to have
leaned back would have been to lie down. Ethelbertha, having made up
her mind she was going to dislike the whole family of the St.
Leonards, seemed disinclined for conversation. Myself I had
forgotten my cigar-case. I have tried the St. Leonard cigar. He
does not smoke himself; but keeps a box for his friends. He tells me
he fancies men are smoking cigars less than formerly. I did not see
how I was going to get a smoke for the next three hours. Nothing
annoys me more than being bustled and made to forget things. Robina,
who has recently changed her views on the subject of freckles, shared
a parasol with her mother. They had to hold it almost horizontally
in front of them, and this obscured their view. I could not myself
understand why people smiled as we went by. Apart from the carriage,
which they must have seen before, we were not, I should have said, an
exhilarating spectacle. A party of cyclists laughed outright.
Robina said there was one thing we should have to be careful about,
living in the country, and that was that the strong air and the
loneliness combined didn't sap our intellect.
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