Mr.Athel, too, though he supported a jesting tone, clearly enjoyed listening to the girl's vivacious comments on the world which amuses itself.

Wilfrid talked less than usual.
He and his father strolled together into the garden an hour later, and found Beatrice reclining in a hammock which had recently been suspended in a convenient spot.

She had one hand beneath her head, the other held a large fan, with which she warded off stray flakes of sunlight falling between the leaves.
'Isn't this exquisite ?' she cried.

'Let no one hint to me of stirring before lunch-time.

I am going to enjoy absolute laziness.' 'I thought you would have preferred a gallop over the downs,' said Mr.
Athel.
'Oh, we'll have that this afternoon; you may talk of it now, and I shall relish it in anticipation.