"Oh, I see. Not Wyvis Brand?" said Nora impulsively. "Not the father of the dear little boy that we found here just now?"
Cuthbert Brand's fair face colored. He looked excessively surprised.
"The father—a little boy? I am afraid," he said, with some embarrassment of manner, "that I do not exactly know what you mean——"
"It is just this," said Nora, losing her contemptuous manner and coming closer to the speaker; "when my sister and I were walking this way we saw a little boy lying here fast asleep. He woke up and told us that his name was Julian Wyvis Brand, and that his mother had left him here, and told him to find his father, who lived at that red house."
"Good heavens! And the woman—what became of her?"
"The boy said she had gone away and would not come back."
"I trust she may not," muttered Cuthbert angrily to himself. A red flush colored his brow as he went on. "My brother's wife," he said formally, "is not—at present—on very friendly terms with him; we did not know that she intended to bring the child home in this manner: we thought that she desired to keep it—where is the boy, by the way?"
"My sister has taken him up to the Hall. She said that she would see Mr. Brand."
Cuthbert raised his eyebrows. "See my brother?" he repeated as if involuntarily. "My brother!"
"She is his second cousin, you know: I suppose that gives her courage," said Nora smiling at the tone of horror which she fancied must be simulated for the occasion. But Cuthbert was in earnest—he knew Wyvis Brand's temper too well to anticipate anything but a rough reception for any one who seemed inclined to meddle with his private affairs. And if Nora's sister were like herself! For Nora did not look like a person who would bear roughness or rudeness from any one.