I've always done my
best to spare her feelings, and I hope that nothing--"
"I shan't mention the subject."
Meldon and Sir Gilbert walked back together. They found the group on
the lawn in a state of obvious discomfort. Major Kent was standing
behind Miss King's chair, looking like a policeman on guard over some
specially valuable life threatened by a murderer. His face wore an
expression of suspicious watchfulness. Simpkins sat on the chair
previously occupied by Sir Gilbert, and looked ill at ease. He had a
cup of tea balanced on his knee. His eyes wandered restlessly from
Miss King to Major Kent, and then back again. He did not see his way
to making his apology or offering his explanation while Major Kent was
present. At the same time he dreaded being left alone with Miss King.
Now that he was face to face with her he felt a great difficulty in
giving any account of himself. Miss King was doing her best to keep up
a friendly conversation with him, but the Major refused to speak a
word, and she felt the awkwardness of the situation.
"I suppose, Simpkins," said Meldon, "that your tournament would be over
by the time you got back to Donard, even if you started at once.
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