He determined to make a clean breast of it. One day he was obliged to
remain at the house in expectation of receiving important telegrams, and
the only people who appeared at lunch were Lady Lawless, Mrs. Gregory
Thorne (who was expecting her husband), Miss Raglan; Pride, and himself.
While at luncheon he made up his mind to have a talk with Miss Raglan. In
the library after luncheon the opportunity was given. It was a warm,
pleasant day, and delightful in the grounds.

After one or two vain efforts to escape, Mrs. Gregory Thorne and Lady
Lawless resigned themselves to the attentions of Mr. Pride; and for once
Lady Lawless did not check Mrs. Thorne's irony. It was almost a
satisfaction to see Mr. Pride's bewildered looks, and his inability to
know whether or not he should resent (whether it would be proper to
resent) this softly-showered satire.

Mr. Vandewaters and Gracia Raglan talked more freely than they had ever
done before.

"Do you really like England?" she said to him; then, waving her hand
lightly to the beeches and the clean-cropped grass through the window, "I
mean do you like our 'trim parterres,' our devotion to mere living,
pleasure, sport, squiring, and that sort of thing?"

He raised his head, glanced out, drew in a deep breath, thrust his hands
down in the pockets of his coat, and looking at her with respectful good
humour, said: "Like it? Yes, right down to the ground. Why shouldn't I!
It's the kind of place I should like to come to in my old days. You
needn't die in a hurry here. See?"

"Are you sure you would not be like the old sailors who must live where