"What on earth is to be done?"
There was a sudden sound of light footsteps, and then, to his immense relief, Tamsin Dearlove stood before him. She looked as fresh and neat as ever and carried a small basket on her arm.
"Whatever is the matter? Why, 'tis little Susie Clemow! What's the matter, Susie?" She set down her basket and ran to the child, who immediately ceased to yell.
"There now, that's better. Did the big strange gentleman try to frighten her? Poor little maid!"
"I assure you," said Mr. Fogo, "I tried to do nothing of the kind."
Tamsin paid no attention.
"There now, we're as good as gold again, and can run along home. Give me a kiss first, that's a dear."
The little maid, still sobbing fitfully, gave the kiss, picked up her satchel, and toddled off, leaving Tamsin and Mr. Fogo face to face.
"Why did you frighten her?" the girl asked severely. There was an angry flush on her cheek.
"I did not intentionally. It was the alarum. First of all I was chased by a bull, and then—" Mr. Fogo told his story incoherently. The angry red left Tamsin's cheek, and a look of disdain succeeded.