Walter took off his hat to her with chivalric grace and respect. Colonel Clifford drew up in a stiff military attitude, which flavored rather of the parade or the field of battle than the court either of the great monarch or of little Cupid.
CHAPTER XV.
THE SECRET IN DANGER.
"Hum!" said the Colonel, dryly; "a petticoat!"
"Et cetera," suggested Walter, meekly; and we think he was right, for a petticoat has never in our day been the only garment worn by females, nor even the most characteristic: fishermen wear petticoats, and don't wear bonnets.
"Who is she, sir?" asked the grim Colonel.
"Your niece, father," said Walter, mellifluously, "and the most beautiful girl in Derbyshire."
The Colonel snorted, but didn't condescend to go into the question of beauty.
"Why did my niece retire at sight of me?" was his insidious inquiry.
"Well," said Walter, meekly, "the truth is, some mischief-making fool has been telling her that you have lost all natural affection for your dead sister's child."