“Anything the matter?” he repeated, with a little start. “No. What should be that matter?”
“I don’t know,” said Olivia, “but I thought you looked rather worried, dear.”
“No, no,” he said, with a forced kind of cheerfulness. “I am a little tired, I think, that is all. I am sorry Bertie did not stay to dinner.”
“So am I,” said Olivia, promptly. “How well he looked! Dear Bertie!”
The squire glanced at her.
“Or Mr. Bradstone,” he said. “I thought he meant staying.”
“Yes?” said Olivia in a colder voice.
“A good fellow, Bradstone!” said the squire, stirring his coffee. “I don’t think Bertie did him justice this afternoon. If he knew him as well as I do——”
“But you do not know him very well, papa,” said Olivia, gently.
The squire frowned slightly.