“Ah, stop, for Heaven’s sake!”
There was a little scuffle; then the door flew open, and Mrs. Bort appeared, with Neaera clinging helplessly about her knees.
George rose and bowed politely. “I’m afraid I intrude,” said he.
“That’s easy mended,” said Mrs. Bort, with significance.
Neaera had leapt up on seeing him, and leant breathless against the door, looking like some helpless creature at bay.
“Who let you in?” demanded the lady of the house.
“Your servant.”
“I’ll let her in,” said Mrs. Bort, darkly. “Who are ye?”
George looked at Neaera. “My name is Neston,” he said blandly.