A light had kindled in his eye.
"When does your sister come home?" he asked.
"She was to have come next week," answered I. "But I suppose mother will put it off now."
"Yes, Meg," said he, with a twinkle in his eye, "I suppose she'll put it off. And yet the lad is a good lad, but mother knows best, mother knows best."
We turned up the road, and as we came to the corner of the village street we saw two figures coming along towards us. One of them was Mary Thorne and the other was Captain Forrester. I had not known the Thornes were back at the Priory: they had left it for the London season.
The two were laughing and talking gayly. She came forward cordially as soon as she saw me and held out her hand. Her round, rosy face shone with merriment, and her brown hair caught the sunlight. She spoke to me first while Frank was shaking father warmly by the hand.
"How are you, Mr. Maliphant?" cried he. "It's delightful to see you again. You see I could not keep away. I had to come down and get a fresh impetus, fresh instructions."
Mary Thorne laughed. "Oh, he talks of nothing else," said she. "He's quite crazed over this wonderful scheme, I can assure you, Mr. Maliphant."
Father's brow clouded, and to be sure I could not bear to hear her talk like that, though why, I could not exactly have told.
"And so we made it an excuse to snatch a couple of days from balls and things, and come down here for a breath of fresh air," she continued.