She would look a little sad, too, and far away.
It had its effect.
"What are you dreaming about, fair chatelaine ?" he asked after a while.
"Your charming mouth has its corners drooped." "I was wondering--" and then she stopped.
"Yes ?" asked John Derringham.

"You were wondering what ?" "I was wondering if one could ever get you to really take an interest in anything but your politics, and your England's advancement?
How good it would be if one could interest you for a moment in anything else." He leaned upon the balustrade beside her.
"You are talking nonsense," he said.

"You know very well that you interest me every time I see you--and it is growing upon me.

That was not the only thing revolving in your clever mind." "Yes, indeed," and she looked down.
"Well, then, I am interested in your garden.

What do you think of doing?
Tell me." She explained an elaborate plan, and quoted the names of famous gardeners and their styles, with her accustomed erudition.