Robert agreed somewhat doubtfully, but when she remained equally calm and cheerful during his second and third checks, he seemed more relaxed and did not come again until he was ready to call a halt a little south of Grijo, where they found a stream at which they could water the animals.

Carlos soon chose a shady spot well away from the road where he unloaded the mule, spread a blanket upon which he set the hampers of food, and then took Luisa and Boa Viagem to the stream for water Esmeralda laid out plates and gla.s.ses and took out a portion of bread and cheese, which she gave to Carlos when he returned, having tethered the horse and mule where there was a little dry gra.s.s on which they could graze. His eyes widened at the size of the portions, and he thanked her with the pa.s.sion of one who understands hunger too well.

The kindness fortunately did not induce him to take advantage, which Esmeralda had feared might happen in a village boy without experience of society. Without instruction, he moved to the side of the road and sat down to eat at a decent distance from his benefactress. He was a clever boy in every way, Esmeralda thought, when about half an hour later, Carlos jumped to his feet to hail Robert. She had been watching the road herself, ready to call out because Robert had no way of knowing exactly where they were. He had only told them when to stop and had himself ridden back to instruct the drivers. But Carlos seemed determined to be the perfect servant, for he took Robert's horse and began to walk the animal slowly to and fro in the shade to cool it before he took it to drink. Robert raised his brows when he reached Esmeralda, and she shrugged.

"I don't know," she replied to the unspoken question. "I can't imagine where he learned, unless there is a gentleman's house in or near the village where he lived and one of his relatives served there, or perhaps he was a servant there himself and ran away. However, I'm not going to look too closely into the gift horse's mouth. I think we have found a treasure."

"I seem to have found one, too," Robert said, sinking down onto the blanket. "You have no idea how refreshing it is to have one's meals served in a civilized manner on a march." And then, after he emptied a tall gla.s.s of watered wine in a continuous series of long swallows, he exclaimed, "Oh, bless you, woman! I was as dry as the desert."

Esmeralda smiled as she filled gla.s.ses and plates, but she did not trust herself to speak. Everything was working so well, so exactly as she had hoped, that she almost feared to breathe lest the charm be broken. In particular, she did not wish to say anything that Robert would consider trivial, but she was also afraid to ask about how the drive was going, for Robert's appearance implied that there were problems. He was covered with dust from riding back and forth along the animal train, and he looked tired to death. So she ate slowly and silently, desperately searching for a remark that would allow him to talk freely if he wished to without actually implying that she expected him to tell her anything. And then she had cause to bless the indecision that had kept her from speaking at all.

Robert suddenly pushed away his plate, looked at her, and said, "'My gracious silence.' That's from Coriola.n.u.s. It's what he called his wife for not talking his head off and creating a scene when he said he was going back to Carthage. My whole family thinks I'm an idiot because I wanted to join the army, but a few things did stick in my head in school. I'm so tired I can barely chew. Bless you for not expecting me to talk."

"No, of course not," Esmeralda said softly. "Today must be dreadful, with everyone not knowing what is expected of him. If we are not too far behind schedule, perhaps you could sleep for an hour or so during the worst heat?" It was a question, not a suggestion, and she hoped he would not think it an attempt to interfere with his duty.

"If you wouldn't mind," he said gratefully, "I think I will. I'm sorry to be so rude. It isn't the company that's boring me, Merry, I swear it."

"Don't be foolish," she answered. "I will probably doze a little myself, although I am not very tired. It's a habit from India and customary here, too. Why don't you take off that coat and cool off."

He did not answer, just did as she suggested and was asleep almost as soon as his head went down. Esmeralda sat looking at his beautiful face, at the smoothly arched brows and long lashes, just enough darker than his golden hair to give character to his features, at the straight nose, the perfect arch of the lips. If she had been sure he was truly soundly asleep, she might have kissed them. She smiled, thinking of the way he had said his family believed he was an idiot. It must be a bookish family, then. Most parents in the upper n.o.bility sent their sons to school because it was the thing that was done, not because they expected the boys to learn anything or cared if they did not.

Then Esmeralda turned away from him abruptly. Not only was Robert what she wanted, but his family sounded as if they would suit her as well. She was no bluestocking herself, but she liked to read and to think about things other than b.a.l.l.s and clothing. Esmeralda sighed. She must not let herself believe her dreams would become reality, and yet, to be called "my gracious silence"...that was beautiful. And it had been his wife Coriola.n.u.s was addressing. She forced herself to remember that it was the silence, not the wife, for which Robert was grateful. But in time...

She pushed away the thought and busied herself with recorking the wine and covering the food so it would be safe from insects. She did not load anything back into the hampers yet in the hope that Robert would be able to eat something more when he was rested. There would be plenty of time for her to repack and reach the head of the column, even if some groups set out before her. Then she leaned back against a tree and dozed herself, waking periodically to check the shadows cast on the ground.

When those were appreciable, she woke Robert. He sat up at once, without protest, for he was accustomed to being called out for duty at all hours of the day and night, but the soundness of his sleep was apparent from the slightly dazed way he looked around. Seconds later he was alert and aware and had pulled his watch from his pocket.

"d.a.m.n!" he exploded. "Why did you let me sleep so long?"

"I am very sorry," Esmeralda said.

"No, it's I who am sorry, Merry." Robert apologized at once. "I remember now, I never told you when to wake me, or in fact to wake me at all. But how the devil I'm to get those lazy d.a.m.ned fools started and still get down to Oliveira to warn them we're on the way..."

He stood irresolute for a moment, still a trifle bemused by sleep, and Esmeralda said, "Is there any reason why I could not ride ahead to Oliveira for you? I know it is not customary for a woman to do business of this type, but perhaps because I am English it would be acceptable. You could write a note, or several if necessary, on leaves from your pocketbook-"

An expression of relief came into Robert's face. It wasn't at all usual, of course, but it wasn't an army officer with whom she would have to deal, only a town official, and Merry was an extremely self-possessed young woman. She was right about being English, too. The regador would almost certainly listen to her if she carried a note with his rank and signature. Also, the Bishop of Oporto had promised to send messages down to Oliveira, Agueda, and Coimbra, so the information Merry brought wouldn't be unexpected or disbelieved.

As it was, the oxen would probably not arrive until nearly dark. If he rode down to Oliveira and back before he got them started, he had a horrible feeling half the animals would disappear into the dark. And if he ordered the drivers to get started and did not keep an eye on them, almost as many beasts would wander away and disappear in daylight while the men argued about whose business it was to pursue them.

"You wouldn't be afraid?" Robert asked, relief giving away to an expression of anxiety. "I will, of course, send a man with you."

"Naturally, I shall do whatever you think is best," Esmeralda replied, "but you need not send a man unless you really believe there is some danger. I am not at all nervous, and I am sure the man will be of more use in keeping the animals moving than simply riding along with me. I will have Carlos."

"Well, I don't think there is any danger. If I did, I wouldn't let you go, with or without an escort, but I also don't think it would look right for you to arrive with official information without an official escort."

Esmeralda laughed. "Very well, but I'm not at all sure that one of those scarecrows you said General Freire sent will add much to my status."

"And neither will that hat," Robert remarked teasingly, as he sat down to write the notes.

He was joking, of course, knowing that Esmeralda would have better sense than to wear a peasant-woman's working hat when she made a call on the regador, but it showed his uneasiness. Nonetheless, everything worked out very well, and Esmeralda was able to send her escort back with the name of the inn in which they were to be quartered, as well as information on where the animals were to be held for the night. Moreover, by the time Robert arrived, a meal and rooms were ready so that he had no more to do than eat and tumble into bed, for which he was extremely grateful. Needless to say, that night he did not lie awake thinking about Esmeralda or any other woman.

This system of travel and lodging arrangements worked so well that they used it on each of the two succeeding days. However, as the animal drivers and soldiers moved into unfamiliar territory, farther from their homes, they were far less tempted to abandon the cortege. And as they grew accustomed to their duties and also realized that Robert meant every word he said and would deduct the value of any animal lost or injured from their pay but fully intended to add a reward if all arrived intact, they grew more a.s.siduous and efficient. Robert was not pressed so hard and could spend some time each day riding and talking with Esmeralda.

As Robert's duties became less demanding, they played cards and talked in the evening-at least, Robert talked. Esmeralda said very little beyond what was necessary to encourage him. She learned a great deal about the European war, Bonaparte, the current political situation in England insofar as it pertained to the war, Robert's family, and Sir Arthur Wellesley. Since this was exactly what she wanted, Esmeralda had no fault to find with the entertainment, and Robert could not remember ever having enjoyed himself more.

Nor was his pleasure confined to the evenings when, having examined the stock and a.s.signed guards, he might with justice have put duty out of his mind. It was equally delightful to ride to the head of the column and find Esmeralda, cool and cheerful, under her funny hat. She had, as she had threatened, embellished it with flamboyant ribbons and large, ugly, paper roses, which she had begged from the innkeeper at their first stop. The hat and its decorations had begun Robert's second day, which he had wakened dreading, on a bright note of laughter.

He looked forward to their luncheons, too. Esmeralda always had some amusing or perceptive remarks to make about the march or the countryside, and the meal, whatever it was, was tastefully set out, which somehow lent a better savor to the most prosaic, and sometimes ill-cooked, food. More than once it pa.s.sed through Robert's mind that this was the way to campaign.

Sir Arthur might be the most brilliant general England had-Robert judged him to be, although he felt Sir John Moore was almost his equal-but Sir Arthur was extraordinarily single-minded. On campaign he remembered the men had to eat and rest, since if they were not fed and rested, they would not be able to fight well, but he felt no such compunction about himself and his staff. They, he a.s.sumed, would do their duty fed or unfed, rested or unrested. Thus, the food and wine he offered his staff at mess was often very unpalatable, and he himself ate so fast that a man could choke trying to get enough down to stave off starvation before the plates were removed.

It would be very nice, Robert thought idly as Esmeralda was putting away the remains of the luncheon and he stretched out on the blanket in his shirt sleeves to doze through the worst of the heat, if there were a nice little supper waiting for him in his quarters near a cozy fire, with a companion who would be interested in what he had to say. If only there were some reason why Merry could not leave immediately... And then his eyes snapped open with shock. How could he be so selfish as to think for a moment of imposing more discomfort and inconvenience on her? Just because she was so good and never complained, or even looked dissatisfied, was no reason to think she did not suffer. He sat up so abruptly that Esmeralda was startled.

"We will meet Sir Arthur tomorrow at Figueira da Foz," he said. "I will try to arrange that you be accommodated on the first vessel that goes back to England with dispatches."

Taken by surprise, Esmeralda cried out, "Oh, no! Please do not send me away to England."

"Do not send you away?" Robert repeated. "But-"

Esmeralda swallowed hard and fought to control her impulse to fling herself into his arms weeping and pleading. "You cannot have thought," she said, her voice trembling, "that I am little better off now than when you found me in the village. I still have no friends, no relatives, no papers of identification, and nowhere to go. You may be the only person here or in England who can vouch for my bona fides. I am sorry that I have been such a trouble to you-"

"You haven't been any trouble at all," Robert interrupted. "In fact, you've saved me a great deal of trouble. I only thought that you would have had enough of this hardship and be glad to get back to civilization."

"But I have endured no hardship. Truly, Robert, I have enjoyed myself. I remember that you said Sir Arthur did not approve of women accompanying the army and I realize that in the future I may become a grave enc.u.mbrance to you, but still, I beg you not to send me away until my presence is truly inconvenient. I...I am afraid to go to England alone."

It was not true, of course. Going to England was not what Esmeralda feared. She knew that, with a letter from Robert and another from Sir Arthur to identify her, she would have no trouble being accepted by her father's bankers. It was the collapse of her dream that widened her eyes and filled them with tears, and drained the blood from her cheeks and lips. Robert leaned forward and took her hands in his own.

"Of course I shall not send you to England alone if you do not wish to go," he a.s.sured her.

It did not seem strange to Robert that Esmeralda feared making her way in English society more than she feared war. She must have heard tales enough of the horrible fate awaiting young ladies who could not obtain vouchers for Almack's or find a sponsor to present them at Court, and she knew nothing at all of war. He thought briefly of offering to send her to his own family, but immediately realized that the complications arising from that might be almost as appalling to her. Besides, he had few fears for the future. He was perfectly sure that Sir Arthur's campaign would be victorious. Thus, there would be no danger for Esmeralda if she stayed.

"I cannot ask for leave to take you home myself just now," he went on before she was able to control her voice sufficiently to thank him without bursting into tears.

"Oh, no!" she cried, so shocked at the appearance of this new danger to her plans that her control was restored. "I would not think of it," she added more calmly. "You must not allow the misfortune of finding me to interfere with your duty. I will manage very well. And if I stay out of Sir Arthur's way, perhaps you would not even have to tell him I was about."

"Well, no," Robert said, "I don't think I could go quite as far as that." He grinned at her. "I don't say I might not have tried if I thought I could get away with it, but he's sure to hear somehow. However, you needn't be afraid he'll order me to send you home. Sir Arthur is extremely chivalrous, and he tends to think of women as rather helpless creatures. When he hears your distressing story, he will be most sympathetic. Only, for G.o.d's sake, don't tell him you 'enjoyed' this little trip, careening around with muleteers and the dregs of the Portuguese army."

"No, no," Esmeralda a.s.sured him, her color restored and the mischief returning to her eyes. "I shall say no more than that setting me adrift alone in England would be the very greatest cruelty to my delicate sensibility. And I shall flutter my eyelashes." She batted them exaggeratedly.

"I don't think you've got the style of that exactly right," Robert said, chuckling, "and I'm afraid the delicate sensibility won't go over very well, either, unless you claim to have been in a faint the entire way down from Oporto."

"A shudder or two, then?" Esmeralda suggested. "And an expression of pained fort.i.tude?"

Robert laughed, released her hands, which were now relaxed, and lay down again. He did feel one tiny p.r.i.c.k of guilt because he had not said a single word to suggest that there were things he could do to pave her way in England, but it pa.s.sed. She would be much happier, he told himself, if he took her home personally. Besides, then he himself could see to the settlement of her business with her father's bankers, make sure that the competence she expected was really adequate, and explain her situation to Perce and Sabrina, who would then sponsor her and arrange for her to meet the right people so that she would be properly established.

It would not be long before he was free to ask for leave, he thought. Probably they would go into winter quarters by November or at the latest by December His eyes closed, and he was asleep almost immediately, too quickly for him to be disturbed by the wave of satisfaction that enveloped him when he thought that Merry would be around for months.

Chapter Ten.

They stayed at Coimbra that night in considerable luxury, for it was a large town. The next day, after getting the men started, Robert rode ahead to discover whether the troops were ash.o.r.e yet and where Sir Arthur desired him to bring the stock. He was confident that the men would not desert or allow the animals to stray this close to the end of the journey. He was delighted to find the Riflemen already some miles insh.o.r.e, and fortunately came across General Henry Fane, who greeted the news that baggage animals were on the way with considerable enthusiasm and tried to lay claim to most of them. Between the heat and the sand, he remarked dryly, he was likely to lose more men from exhaustion than from action. Unmoved, Robert said the stock was still a day's march eastward and asked for Sir Arthur who, he learned, was at Figueira da Foz.

Leaving the Riflemen to their unhappy struggles with the heat and the miserable ground, Robert rode to the temporary headquarters, where Sir Arthur received his report with a curt word of commendation. He then summoned his secretary and directed him to write an order absolutely forbidding any of his officers to preempt the animals and nodded dismissal at Robert. However, when Robert did not move, Sir Arthur lifted his head from the papers on the table to which he had returned his attention without noticeable irritation.

"Could I have a moment, sir?" Robert asked as the secretary left the room.

"You had trouble with the bishop?" Wellesley asked.

"Only in the sense that he wouldn't lend me money," Robert answered. "In fact, no one would give me credit or even change more than one or two pounds for Portuguese money."

"That's not-" Sir Arthur began, and then asked, "What the devil did you need credit or more than a pound or two for? Good G.o.d, Moreton, don't tell me you've taken to gambling?"

"No, sir, of course I haven't," Robert replied. "But I hadn't much to do for a few days so I thought I'd ride around the country just to take a look, show myself, and see if I could scare up a few more beasts, and I found this girl-"

"Moreton!" Sir Arthur exclaimed in an exasperated voice. "Don't you know better than-"

"No sir, you don't understand," Robert interposed hastily. "I know her. She's British. I'd met her in Bombay. She and her father had been shipwrecked going home to England."

"You'd better sit down," Wellesley said. "I have a feeling this is going to take longer than one minute."

Although it did, of course, take Robert longer than one minute to tell the story, he managed not try his commanding officer's patience since he had spent the hours it had taken him to ride to Figueira composing his tale. He explained everything to Sir Arthur, including the pretense of marriage and his reasons for it.

"Nothing else you could have done," Wellesley said in his abrupt way, nodding approval. "It's unfortunate, but the country round about here seems to be clear of the French, at least as far south as Leiria. There shouldn't be any immediate danger. You had better bring...er...Mrs. Moreton here. It will take several days longer to disembark the troops, and she can rest. After that we may have to move pretty fast, though." He paused, and his voice had changed, carrying a roguish note when he added, "Pretty girl, eh?"

"Er...not a beauty, no sir."

Robert was not prevaricating. He knew Sir Arthur to be a flirt, and possibly more than a flirt, particularly with attractive married women. There had been rumors that his relationship with Mrs. Freese in India was not totally innocent, however, that was not the reason for his ambivalent reply. Robert did not fear Sir Arthur would do Esmeralda any harm since he knew her to be still an innocent girl. Actually he was really puzzled for an answer to his commanding officer's question. His recent impressions of Esmeralda were at war with his earlier impression that she was not attractive.

"But she is a very sensible girl," Robert added, "not at all given to vapors or complaining."

He had meant to a.s.sure Sir Arthur that Esmeralda would be as little trouble as it was possible for a woman in an armed camp to be, but Sir Arthur merely nodded again, waved dismissal, and looked back at the papers on the table.

Robert left the building with an inexplicable feeling of happiness. He knew part of it was relief. He had expected Sir Arthur to behave precisely as he had behaved, but there had always been the chance that some military order or some other stupidity of the Horse Guards would have exasperated him. In that case, he might have lost his temper over Robert's adventure to give a relatively harmless expression to his spleen. He would not have blamed Robert for his actions, but he could have provided funds enough to leave Esmeralda at Coimbra and have insisted that Robert do it.

If Robert a.s.sociated his high spirits and sense of relief with anything, it was Sir Arthur's seeming satisfaction with the military situation. And when Lord Fitzroy pursued him out of the building, ostensibly to hand him the orders he had forgotten to take, but immediately said, "What sort of c.o.c.k-and-bull story did you feed Sir Arthur? He called me in and told me to give you a hundred cruzados out of his private purse as a wedding present 'to outfit your bride' when you got back with the transport animals. What bride, d.a.m.n it?" Robert found himself mischievously amused.

"Esmeralda Mary Louisa, nee Talbot, now Moreton," Robert said, perfectly straightfaced, although his blue eyes sparkled. "And it isn't a c.o.c.k-and-bull story. How kind of Sir Arthur."

"Kind!" Fitzroy Somerset sounded totally bewildered. "Mad, I call it. What the devil do you need money for, Moreton? I mean, you're plump enough in the pocket, even if you did get married. No, I don't believe it. d.a.m.n it all, how could you get married?"

"It isn't very hard," Robert said. "You just stand up in church and repeat-"

Lord Fitzroy made a sound remarkably like grrr, and his face took on an alarming hue, so Robert stopped.

"As to the money," he went on, "wait until you get away from camp and ask a Portuguese banker to change pounds. I virtually had to get down on my knees and plead. And credit is completely out of the question."

This explanation scarcely contented Lord Fitzroy. He still looked as if he were about to explode, and his voice was dangerously gentle when he asked, "But why does the bride need outfitting? Surely that's her parents' business."

"Oh, that. Well, she was shipwrecked." Robert laughed as Somerset raised a doubled fist. "No, no, I'm not joking. That's the truth, I swear it. Look, I promise to explain it all when I bring the beasts in. Meanwhile, give me those orders so I can get back. Merry's alone with that troop of halfwits Freire sent along as guards. I was just going to see if Mars or Jupiter had been brought ash.o.r.e yet. If they haven't been, I'll have to borrow a mount from you or from one of the others. Hermes is about done up from racing up and down the line like a sheepdog."

Somerset's mouth opened to protest that last remark. He could not imagine Robert using his fine horse to herd cattle, but then an expression of strong self-control settled on his features, and all he said was, "Yes, the horses are ash.o.r.e. We have taken over that barn," he pointed, "for a stable. I haven't had time to look the animals over, so you had better walk down yourself and see which of your mounts stood the voyage best." However as Robert turned away, having tucked the order into his breast pocket, Lord Fitzroy seized his arm. "We will all be waiting to meet Mrs. Moreton when you arrive this evening," he said slowly and threateningly.

Not a muscle moved in Robert's face. "I am certain you will find her delightful," he said, and did not permit himself to begin laughing at his friend's expression until he was safe in the barn, although the restraint nearly choked him.

Under the circ.u.mstances, it was not at all surprising that Robert and Esmeralda were met about three miles from headquarters by a half-dozen neatly attired young men on exquisite mounts. A few of the ADCs were on duty, and a number were still on the ships arranging the disembarkation from that end. All who were free, however, had ridden out of the camp as soon as the orderly they had set on watch had come galloping back to report that a huge cloud of dust was approaching. Of course, Robert had warned Esmeralda that this might happen.

"How the devil they imagine I planned to get away with it, I can't guess," Robert had said after he had a.s.sured himself that everything was under control with regard to the animals in his care and had come to ride beside Esmeralda. "After all, I served with Sir Arthur. By the by, a lot of the ADCs call him 'the Beau' because he is always so neat in his dress. As I was saying, I served with him in India, and I'm not likely to underestimate him. Still, Fitz, I mean Lord Fitzroy Somerset, clearly believes I picked up some Portuguese...er..."

"Light-skirt," Esmeralda supplied when Robert ran down, obviously realizing all of a sudden that he was saying something vastly improper.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to be offensive," he said, rather chagrined, "but you're devilish easy to talk to, Merry, and I end up forgetting myself."

"And so you should," Esmeralda a.s.sured him. "It will give us away completely if you do not feel free to say anything at all to me."

This, Esmeralda knew, was not necessarily true. She was not unaware that some husbands treated their wives as witless dolls, and sometimes with good reason. However, her primary purpose was to addict Robert to her company, and one of the ways to accomplish that was to make him as comfortable with her as he was with his male friends. Moreover, there was a double benefit, in that his conversation would be far more interesting for her if he felt free to talk about anything at all.

"Will it?" Robert asked, frowning in doubt. "Don't think m' father says anything he thinks to m' mother."

Esmeralda laughed. "I am quite sure you will not say anything to me that your father would not say to your mother. If you really believe that your mother is innocent of the existence of ladies of light and easy virtue at this time of her life and that your father would not mention them to her-in an impersonal way, of course-you are much mistaken. Probably your mother would not speak to you about such women-"

"You mean my mother thinks I am innocent?" Robert said incredulously. "I am seven and twenty years of age!"

Esmeralda laughed again. "I cannot imagine she thinks anything of the sort. Nothing you have ever said to me has given me reason to think your mother is a fool. But she would not wish to embarra.s.s you. It is not the kind of thing a woman discusses with her sons, but that is no reason to think she is unaware."

"Well, I didn't think- d.a.m.n it, Merry, how did we get onto this stupid subject anyway?"

"You were saying that you did not know how your fellow ADCs thought you intended to pa.s.s off a Portuguese light-skirt on Sir Arthur as your wife," Esmeralda reminded him obligingly.

"Yes, well, that was not where I should have begun. The point is that they are very curious, and we should have a reasonable story to offer."

"It would be best, I believe, to stay as close to the truth as possible," Esmeralda said slowly. "I do not think we can completely conceal your chivalric motives." Robert made an uncomfortable noise, but Esmeralda continued without giving him a chance to interrupt. "Presumably your friends know of your past determination not to marry until you were ready to terminate your military career, and I am not the kind of girl over whom a man would suddenly lose his head-"

"Not in those clothes I found you in, anyway," Robert admitted, grinning.

A sense of satisfaction rose in Esmeralda. She was certain that only a few days ago Robert would simply have agreed with her statement or, if he had remembered to be tactful, have remained silent. He would not have attributed her lack of beauty to ill-fitting, unclean garments. Perhaps she had reason to hope that he was beginning to think of her as somewhat attractive.

"And Fitz already knows you were shipwrecked," Robert continued, unaware of what he had betrayed about himself and the pleasure he had given Esmeralda, "because Sir Arthur was kind enough to contribute a hundred cruzados toward a new wardrobe for you. But I could have...er...been enamored in Bombay."

Esmeralda giggled. "Not unless you were demented," she reminded him, but hope flared up again simply because he could say such a thing now. "And being aware that one is badly dressed makes one awkward, which only adds to the bad impression. However, there can be no harm in implying that we knew each other better than we really did and that you found me a pleasant kind of girl."

"It's true, too," Robert said. "I mean that you're a pleasant girl. Fitz and the others will see that for themselves at once."

"I hope so," Esmeralda answered most earnestly.