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The youngest son of Sir Rowland de Boys, the young Orlando, "a youth unschooled and yet learned, full of noble device, of all sorts enchantingly beloved," talked to old Adam, and then to his own most unnatural brother. The scene changed to the lawn before the Duke's palace. Lord Bidborough bade Jean observe the scenery and dresses.
And yet I seem to have been here all my life; I feel so much a part of Priorsford, so akin to the people in it. It must be the Border blood in my veins. My mother loved her own country dearly. I have heard my aunt say that she never felt at home at Bidborough or Mintern Abbas. I am sure she would have wanted us to know her Scots home, so Biddy and I are going to Champertoun for Christmas.
They went out between the acts and walked by the river in the moonlight and talked of the play. Jock and Mhor were loud in their approval, only regretting that Touchstone couldn't be all the time on the stage. Lord Bidborough asked Jean if it came up to her expectations.
She broke off to bow to Miss Watson and her sister, Miss Teenie, who passed Jean and her companion with skirts held well out of the mud, and eyes, after the briefest glance, demurely cast down. "They are going out to tea," Jean explained to Lord Bidborough. "Don't they look nice and tea-partyish? Fur capes over their best dresses and snow boots over their slippers.
She had the three boys beside her, Pamela was next door, she had all manner of schemes in hand to keep her thoughts occupied but there was a great want somewhere. Jean owned to herself that the blank had been there ever since Lord Bidborough went away. It was frightfully silly, but there it was. And probably by this time he had quite forgotten her.
Jean's eyes were shining, and she had forgotten to be awkward and tongue-tied. "I remember," said Lord Bidborough. "And the wonderful descriptions 'I know corries in Argyle that whisper silken' ... do you remember that? And the last scene of all when John Splendid rides away?" "Do you cry over books, Jean?" Pamela asked.
"Surely you don't want her different," Mrs. Macdonald said. "Not very different," said Mhor, "but she's pretty small for a Lady not nearly as tall as Richard Plantagenet." "As high as my heart," said Lord Bidborough. "The correct height, Mhor." The vicar lunched with them at the inn. There were no speeches, and no one tried to be funny. Jock rebuked Jean for eating too much.
Duff-Whalley that lady was saying: "Did you say, Jean, that Miss Reston is coming back to Priorsford soon?" "Yes, any day." "Fancy! And her brother too?" Jean said she thought not: Lord Bidborough was going to London. "Ah! then we shall see him there. I don't know when I met anyone with whom I felt so instantly at home. He has such easy manners. It really is a pleasure to meet a gentleman.
Now don't stand about so uncomfortably Pamela, sit in your corner; and this is a really comfortable chair, Lord Bidborough." "I want to look at the books, if I may," said Lord Bidborough. "It's always the first thing I do in a room. You have a fine collection here." "They are nearly all my father's books," Jean explained.
Lord Bidborough laughed ruefully and said, "Well, that's not a pretty way to take a proposal," while Jean, flushed with shame at her own rudeness, and finding herself suddenly rather breathless, gasped out, "But you shouldn't give people such frights. How could I know you were going to say anything so silly? And it's my first proposal, and I've got on goloshes!" "Oh, Jean!
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