"But where is Walton?" questioned the old gentleman, approaching the girl, with a faint show of resentment. "Surely, Lady Rose, I expected to find him at your feet."
"It is a place he seldom seeks," answered the lady, opening one of the books with assumed carelessness. "If he has left the table, I fancy it must have been him I saw crossing the terrace ten minutes ago."
Sir Noel replied, incredulously:
"Saw him crossing the terrace! There must have been some mistake. I am sure he spoke of going to the drawing-room."
She hesitated.
"He changed his mind, I suppose," she said at last, with a slight but haughty wave of her hand toward a great bay-window that looked out on the park. "I saw his face as he crossed that block of moonlight on the terrace, I am quite sure. Perhaps—"
"Perhaps what, Lady Rose?"
"He has some business at the gardener's cottage. Old Jessup is a favorite, you know," answered the lady, with a light laugh, in which the old man discovered the bitterness of latent jealousy.
A hot, angry flush suffused the old man's face; but this was the only sign of anger that he gave. The next instant he was composed as ever, and answered her with seeming indifference.
"Oh, yes, I remember; I had some orders for Jessup, which he was thoughtful enough to take."