He seemed so natural too, that Ralph thought that he must have over-rated his own indiscretion.
A shadow fell across the door into the garden as they came near it, and one of the girls appeared in the opening.
"Why, Meg," cried her father, "what is it, my darling ?" "Beatrice has come, sir," said the girl.

"I thought you would wish to know." More put out his arm and laid it round his daughter's waist as she turned with him.
"Come, Mr.Torridon," he said, "if you have no more to say, let us go and see Beatrice." There was a group on the lawn under one of the lime trees, two or three girls and Mr.Roper, who all rose to their feet as the three came up.
More immediately sat down on the grass, putting his feet delicately together before him.
"Will, fetch this gentleman a chair.

It is not fit for Master Cromwell's friend to sit on the grass like you and me." Ralph threw himself down on the lawn instantly, entreating Mr.Roper not to move.
"Well, well," said Sir Thomas, "let be.

Sit down too, Will, _et cubito remanete presso_.

Mr.Torridon understands that, I know, even if Master Cromwell's friend does not.