“Are you quite sure it was to-day he mentioned?” said he, with an affected indifference in his tone.
“Miss Kellett can inform us with certainty.”
“He said Thursday, and in time for dinner,” said Sybella, not a little puzzled by this by-play of assumed forgetfulness.
“The man who makes his own appointments ought to keep them. I am five minutes beyond the half-hour,” said Lord Glengariff, as he looked at his watch.
“I suspect you are a little fast,” observed Lady Augusta.
“There!—I think I heard the crack of a postilion's whip,” cried Sybella, as she went outside the window to listen. Lady Augusta followed, and was soon at her side.
“You appear anxious for Mr. Dunn's coming. Is he a very intimate friend of yours, Miss Kellett?” said she, with a keen, quick glance of her dark eyes.
“He was the kind friend of my father, when he lived, and, since his death, he has shown himself not less mindful of me. There—I hear the horses plainly! Can't you hear them now, Lady Augusta?”
“And how was this kindness evidenced,—in your own case I mean?” said Lady Augusta, not heeding her question.
“By advice, by counsel, by the generous interference which procured for me my present station here, not to speak of the spirit of his letters to me.”