"Who is it? Come in!"
The door opened. Juliet stood on the threshold. The evening light fell
full upon her. She was dressed in cloudy grey that fell about her in soft
folds. Her face was flushed, but quite serene.
"Mrs. Fielding wants to know if you have forgotten dinner," she said.
The squire's face changed magically. He smiled upon Juliet. "Come in,
Miss Moore! You've met this pestilent pedagogue before, I think."
"Just once or twice," said Juliet, coming forward.
"How is the ankle?" said Green.
She smiled at him without embarrassment. "Oh, better, thank you. It was
only a wrench."
"Hurt yourself?" questioned Fielding.
"No, no. It's really nothing. I slipped in the park and nearly sprained
my ankle--just not quite," said Juliet. "And Mr. Green very kindly helped
me into shelter before the storm broke."
"Did he?" said the squire and looked at Green searchingly. "Well, Mr.
Green, you'd better stay and dine as you are here."
"You're very kind," Dick said. "I don't know whether I ought. I'm
not dressed."
"Of course you ought!" said Fielding testily. "Come on and wash! Your
clothes won't matter--we're alone. That is, if Miss Moore doesn't object
to sitting down with blue serge.
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