"My dear Frank, don't play the Sphinx, please, for I'm one of the most dense men under the sun. Now, then, speak out."

"Only thinking, and putting that and that together," said Pratt, relighting his cigar. "Well?"

"Well--handsome young bailiff seen in the copse yonder; pretty girl is seen going rather hurriedly along path leading to copse; and elderly lady who holds post of housekeeper, and who, by the way, seems to know it, is seen to peer through window, and then to come to door, as if in search of pretty girl. I say only, what does it mean?"

"Means a bit of sweethearting, apparently," said Trevor, laughing.

"Well, I suppose it's all right!"

"Not if the old lady catches them, perhaps; so let's go and talk to the old lady."

Trevor shrugged his shoulders, and the couple walked back towards the house, where Mrs Lloyd was standing, evidently fidgeted about something or another.

"I tell you she must have gone out," she was saying as they came up.

But just at that moment the sound of carriage wheels was heard, and the waggonette drew up at the door with Vanleigh and Landells.

"Jove!" said the latter, "what out-of-the-way place, Trevor. Thought never get here."

A sharp sniff drew his attention to Mrs Lloyd, who stood with her husband just inside the door.

"Not bad," said Vanleigh, superciliously.

"Ah, you'll like it when you've been down a day or two," said Trevor.

"I'm heartily glad to see you both."

"Thanks," said Vanleigh, as his host led the way into the hall. "Ah, quite mediaeval."

"Mrs Lloyd, you've got the oak room ready for Captain Vanleigh?" said Trevor.

"No, Master d.i.c.k, I've ordered the blue room for him."

Trevor's brow clouded, but he only bit his lip.

"Then you've arranged that Sir Felix shall have the oak room?"

"No, Master--sir," she said, correcting herself in a very stately way, "Sir Felix will sleep in the chintz chamber."

Trevor flushed, but he turned it off lightly.

"These are our old butler and housekeeper, Vanleigh," he said. "Mrs Lloyd there was almost like a mother to me as a child."

"Indeed," said Vanleigh, superciliously; and Sir Felix fixed his gla.s.s and had a good stare at the old lady, who looked every whit the mistress of the house.

"Grey mare?" he said, in a whisper.

"Old favoured servants," said Trevor, in return; and the young men walked into the drawing-room.

"Don't stand staring there," said Mrs Lloyd, fiercely, to the footman; "take up these portmantees."

The man gave her a surly look.

"He'll go to ruin, that he will," said Mrs Lloyd, in a voice of suppressed anger, to her husband, as soon as they were alone; "and there you stand without a word to say for yourself."

"Well, what can I do, my dear?" said Lloyd, feebly.

"Nothing--nothing; what you have always done--nothing. But I'll stop it soon. I won't be made quite a nonent.i.ty of. Where's that girl? Go and look for her. Or, no, you must see to the dinner; and mind this, Lloyd--she's to be kept out of sight while these fine sparks are here.

I don't like the looks of that dark fellow at all."

Mrs Lloyd hurried away to meet Polly, just about to enter the housekeeper's room.

"And pray, where have you been, madam?"

"Only out in the grounds, aunt--it was so fine," was the reply.

Mrs Lloyd looked at her till a red glow overspread the girl's face.

"Look here," said Mrs Lloyd, catching her by one hand; "you are not a fool, Polly. You understand what I mean, don't you?"

The girl looked up at her with a shiver, and then her eyes fell.

"Don't you try to thwart me, mind, or you'll be sorry for it to the last day of your life. Now, look here, do you mind me?"

"Yes, aunt."

"You are to keep in the housekeeper's room here till those friends of Master d.i.c.k's are gone. And don't you try to deceive me, because I can read that pink and white face of yours like a book."

Mrs Lloyd flung the little maiden's hand away from her, walked to a drawer, and brought out some new linen, which she set the girl to sew, while she went about the house seeing to the arrangements for her master's guests.

As a matter of course, little Polly had "a good cry," making several damp places on the new linen; and then, with a sob, she wished herself safe back at her old aunt's in the Welsh mountains, where she was poor, but happy and free as the goats.

"I'd go to-morrow if I could," she sobbed, and then the needle hand fell upon the stiff, hard work, and she closed her wet eyes till a faint smile came across her face like a little ray of sunshine; and she whispered softly to herself, as if it were a great secret, "No, I don't think I would."

Volume 1, Chapter XV.

MRS JENKLES'S MORNING CALL.

"Been waiting, old lady?" said Sam Jenkles, throwing open the ap.r.o.n of the cab as he reached his wife's side.

"Not a minute, Sam; but why weren't you driving? Is he restive?"

"Restive!" said Sam; "I only wish he was. I'd give 'arf a sovrin' to see 'im bolt."

"And suppose I was in the cab!" said Mrs Jenkles.

"There, don't you be alarmed. Jump in. Ratty wouldn't run away with you inside, my dear--nor any one else."

Sam rattled the ap.r.o.n down, hopped on to his perch, chirruped to Ratty, and, for a wonder, he went decently out on to Pentonville Hill, past the Angel, along Upper Street, and round by the c.o.c.k at Highbury.