"She has the face of an angel."
"That is what my Emily says, sir; she dotes on my young lady, sir, and would work her fingers to the bone to serve her."
"Miss Miss Bidaud, then, has one faithful friend by her side."
"You may say that, sir. There have been mistresses and servants but there never was mistress and servant so bound to each other as my Emily and my young lady."
"They are in Europe?"
"Oh, yes, sir, they are in Europe. I'll tell you presently where, but I must finish what I was saying at first. It was about the magpie--the bird you were looking for--as sensible a feathered thing as ever piped a note. Emily wanted badly to come and see me, and some other of her relations in England, and it happened that her uncle and guardian Mr. Gilbert Bidaud--you know the gentleman, sir?" asked Mrs. Crawford, breaking off suddenly; she had noticed a dark flash in Basil's eyes at the mention of the name.
"I had a brief acquaintance with him in Australia," replied Basil.
"Do you like him, sir? Is he a friend of yours?"
Before he replied he looked attentively at her, and a tacit understanding seemed to pass between them. Without further hesitation he answered:
"I do not like him. He is no friend of mine."