“Well, then, suppose we sketch the church together.  There is a good light.”

“No.  Let us go on the downs, Lucy.”

“Why, aunt, it—­it is a long walk.”

“All the better.”

“But we said ‘No.’”

“What has that to do with it?”

Arthur was right; the kites that are sold by shops of prey are not proportioned nor balanced; this is probably in some way connected with the circumstance that they are made to sell, not fly.  The monster kite, constructed by the light of Euclid, rose steadily into the air like a balloon, and eventually, being attached to the chair, drew Mr. Arthur at a reasonable pace about half a mile over a narrow but level piece of turf that was on the top of the downs.  Q.E.D.  This done, these two patient creatures had to wind the struggling monster in, and go back again to the starting point.  Before they had quite achieved this, two petticoats mounted the hill and moved toward them across the plateau.  At sight of them David thrilled from head to foot, and Arthur cried, “Oh, bother!” an unjust ejaculation, since it was by his invitation they came.  His alarms were verified.  The ladies made themselves No. 1 directly, and the poor kite became a shield for flirtation.  Arthur was so cross.

At last the B’s desire to occupy attention brought her to the verge of trouble.  Seeing David saying a word to Lucy, she got into the chair, and went gayly off, drawn by the kite, which Arthur, with a mighty struggle, succeeded in hooking to the car for her.  Now, the plateau was narrow, and the chair wanted guiding.  It was easy to guide it, but Mrs. Bazalgette did not know how; so it sidled in a pertinacious and horrid way toward a long and steepish slope on the left side.  She began to scream, Arthur to laugh—­the young are cruel, and, I am afraid, though he stood perfectly neutral to all appearance, his heart within nourished black designs.  But David came flying up at her screams—­just in time.  He caught the lady’s shoulders as she glided over the brow of the slope, and lifted her by his great strength up out of the chair, which went the next moment bounding and jumping athwart the hill, and soon rolled over and groveled in rather an ugly way.

Mrs. Bazalgette sobbed and cried so prettily on David’s shoulder, and had to be petted and soothed by all hands.  Inward composure soon returned, though not outward, and in due course histrionics commenced.  First the sprain business.  None of you do it better, ladies, whatever you may think.  David had to carry her a bit.  But she was too wise to be a bore.  Next, the heroic business:  would be put down, would walk, possible or not; would not be a trouble to her kind friends.  Then the martyr smiling through pain.  David was very attentive to her; for while he was carrying her in his arms she had won his affection, all he could spare from Lucy.  Which of you can tell all the consequences if you go and carry a pretty woman, with her little insinuating mouth close to your ears?