jerked her little round chin towards the south behind Dallington.
'Sure-ly you know Marklake?'

'We went a picnic to Marklake Green once,' said Una. 'It's
awfully pretty. I like all those funny little roads that don't lead
anywhere.'

'They lead over our land,' said Philadelphia stiffly, 'and the
coach road is only four miles away. One can go anywhere from
the Green. I went to the Assize Ball at Lewes last year.' She spun
round and took a few dancing steps, but stopped with her hand to
her side.

'It gives me a stitch,' she explained. 'No odds. 'Twill go away
in London air. That's the latest French step, child. Rene taught it
me. D'you hate the French, chi - Una?'

'Well, I hate French, of course, but I don't mind Ma'm'selle.
She's rather decent. Is Rene your French governess?'

Philadelphia laughed till she caught her breath again.

'Oh no! Rene's a French prisoner - on parole. That means he's
promised not to escape till he has been properly exchanged for an
Englishman. He's only a doctor, so I hope they won't think him
worth exchanging. My uncle captured him last year in the
FERDINAND privateer, off Belle Isle, and he cured my uncle of a
r-r-raging toothache. Of course, after that we couldn't let him lie
among the common French prisoners at Rye, and so he stays with
us. He's of very old family - a Breton, which is nearly next door