Just here the roadway was
bordered by a deep bank covered with trees which sloped down to the
valley of the Ell, at this time of the year looking its loveliest in
the soft autumn lights. And here, seated on a bank of turf beneath the
shadow of a yellowing chestnut tree, in such position as to get a view
of the green valley and flashing river where cattle red and white
stood chewing the still luxuriant aftermath, was none other than Ida
herself, and what was more, Ida accompanied by Colonel Quaritch. They
were seated on campstools, and in front of each of them was an easel.
Clearly they were painting together, for as Edward gazed, the Colonel
rose, came up close behind his companion's stool made a ring of his
thumb and first finger, gazed critically through it at the lady's
performance, then sadly shook his head and made some remark. Thereupon
Ida turned round and began an animated discussion.
"Hang me," said Edward to himself, "if she has not taken up with that
confounded old military frump. Painting together! Ah, I know what that
means. Well, I should have thought that if there was one man more than
another whom she would have disliked, it would have been that
battered-looking Colonel."
He pulled up his horse and reflected for a moment, then handing the
reins to his servant, jumped out, and climbing through a gap in the
fence walked up to the tree.
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