The gray rabbits are scuttling across the grass rides in the pale light: as I see them popping in and out of their holes, I cannot help thinking of Bobby.

Apparently, Sir Roger also is reminded of him.
"Nancy," he says, looking down at me with a smile of recollected entertainment, "have you forgiven Bobby yet for leaving you sitting on the wall?
I remember, in the first blaze of your indignation, you vowed that never should he fire a gun in your preserves!--do you still stick to it, or have you forgiven him ?" "_That_ I have not!" cry I, heartily.

"None of them shall shoot any thing! Why should they?
Every thing shall be kept for you against you come back!" He raises his eyebrows a little.
"Rabbits and all ?" "Rabbits and all!" reply I, firmly.
"And what will the farmers say ?" asks Sir Roger, smiling.
I have not considered this aspect of the question, so remain silent.

We walk on without speaking for some moments.

The deer, in lofty pity for Vick, have stopped to allow her to get nearer to them.