Love?" his only vision was of the mater, tall and
stout, rustling down the garden path, with Chinny and Biddy at her
heels...

The mater, with her scissors outspread to snap the head of a dead
something or other, stopped at the sight of Reggie.

"You are not going out, Reginald?" she asked, seeing that he was.

"I'll be back for tea, mater," said Reggie weakly, plunging his hands
into his jacket pockets.

Snip. Off came a head. Reggie almost jumped.

"I should have thought you could have spared your mother your last
afternoon," said she.

Silence. The Pekes stared. They understood every word of the mater's.
Biddy lay down with her tongue poked out; she was so fat and glossy she
looked like a lump of half-melted toffee. But Chinny's porcelain eyes
gloomed at Reginald, and he sniffed faintly, as though the whole world
were one unpleasant smell. Snip, went the scissors again. Poor little
beggars; they were getting it!

"And where are you going, if your mother may ask?" asked the mater.

It was over at last, but Reggie did not slow down until he was out
of sight of the house and half-way to Colonel Proctor's. Then only he
noticed what a top-hole afternoon it was. It had been raining all the
morning, late summer rain, warm, heavy, quick, and now the sky was
clear, except for a long tail of little clouds, like duckings, sailing
over the forest. There was just enough wind to shake the last drops off
the trees; one warm star splashed on his hand. Ping!--another drummed
on his hat. The empty road gleamed, the hedges smelled of briar, and how
big and bright the hollyhocks glowed in the cottage gardens. And here
was Colonel Proctor's--here it was already. His hand was on the gate,
his elbow jogged the syringa bushes, and petals and pollen scattered
over his coat sleeve. But wait a bit. This was too quick altogether.
He'd meant to think the whole thing out again. Here, steady. But he was
walking up the path, with the huge rose bushes on either side. It can't
be done like this. But his hand had grasped the bell, given it a pull,
and started it pealing wildly, as if he'd come to say the house was on
fire. The housemaid must have been in the hall, too, for the front door
flashed open, and Reggie was shut in the empty drawing-room before that
confounded bell had stopped ringing. Strangely enough, when it did, the
big room, shadowy, with some one's parasol lying on top of the grand
piano, bucked him up--or rather, excited him.