The earl pushed up to her, with a snigger.
“There, Sophy,” said he. “What are you doin’ here? But I’m glad you’ve come. Is this here your protégée? Well, take the little baggage away, that was near bringing us to words about her.”
“Words!” she said. “This child!”
“O,” he exclaimed, “that’s all one! Come, boy!”
She detained him some minutes, murmuring to him as he bent down. At the end he rose, grinning at me.
“What!” says he—“the sly old crow! Be sure the little sweep wasn’t fathered by a black cassock before you adopt her.”
She started back, flushing scarlet.
“Hardrough!” she said; “I ask you to go on.”
“Well, I will,” said he, with a little breathless laugh, “and carry your secret, sister, safe in my keepin’.”
He half wheeled, and in an ironic voice summoned the young viscount. The boy got to his horse as sulky as sin. In another minute the three gentlemen were ridden out of sight.