Robert was far less surprised at this than she was; for, like all children, to be left behind appeared to him a contingency rather probable than otherwise.
He was a fine-looking boy, with dark gray, thoughtful eyes, and a pleasant countenance; but his nerves had been so much shaken that he started, and seemed ready to catch hold of her at every sound.
‘What’s that?’ he cried, as a trampling came along the alley as they entered the garden.
‘Only my two little cousins,’ said Honora, smiling. ‘I hope you will be good friends, though perhaps Owen is too young a playfellow. Here, Lucy, Owen—here is a little friend for you—Robert Fulmort.’
The children came eagerly up, and Lucilla, taking her hand, raised her face to kiss the stranger; but Robert did not approve of the proceeding, and held up his head. Lucilla rose on tiptoe; Robin did the same. As he had the advantage of a whole year’s height, he fully succeeded in keeping out of her reach; and very comical was the effect. She gave it up at last, and contented herself with asking, ‘And where do you come from?’
‘Out of the church,’ was Robin’s reply.
‘Then you are very good and holy, indeed,’ said Owen, looking at him earnestly, with clasped hands.
‘No!’ said Robert, gruffly.
‘Poor little man! he was left behind, and shut up in the church all night, without any supper,’ said Honora.
‘Shut up in the church like Goody Two-shoes!’ cried Lucilla dancing about. ‘Oh, what fun!’