The old thoroughbred nosed her hand as if expecting something good, and she produced a lump of sugar from the tea-basket and gave it to him.
Mr.Van Torp pulled a big carrot from the pocket of his tweed jacket and let his horse bite it off by inches.

Then he took the basket from Lady Maud and the two went towards the ruin.
'We can sit on the Earl,' said Lady Maud, advancing towards a low tomb on which was sculptured a recumbent figure in armour.

'The horses won't run away from such nice grass.' So the two installed themselves on each side of the stone knight's armed feet, which helped to support the tea-basket, and Lady Maud took out her spirit-lamp and a saucepan that just held two cups, and a tin bottle full of water, and all the other things, arranging them neatly in order.
'How practical women are!' exclaimed Mr.Van Torp, looking on.

'Now I would never have thought of that.' But he was really wondering whether she expected him to speak first of the grave matters that brought them together in that lonely place.
'I've got some bread and butter,' she said, opening a small sandwich-box, 'and there is a lemon instead of cream.' 'Your arrangements beat Hare Court hollow,' observed the millionaire.
'Do you remember the cracked cups and the weevilly biscuits ?' 'Yes, and how sorry you were when you had burnt the little beasts! Now light the spirit-lamp, please, and then we can talk.' Everything being arranged to her satisfaction, Lady Maud looked up at her companion.
'Are you going to do anything about it ?' she asked.
'Will it do any good if I do?
That's the question.' 'Good?
What is good in that sense ?' She looked at him a moment, but as he did not answer she went on.

'I cannot bear to see you abused in print like this, day after day, when I know the truth, or most of it.' 'It doesn't matter about me.