'No,' said Robin, in her fiercest straightforwardness, 'Lord Ernest de la Poer. You know I am his sisters' governess. He is kindly helping me to find my brother and sister.'
'Oh! I leave you in good hands. Good-bye. If I meet any of your party, I will mention that I have seen you.'
Robina had been reddening all the afternoon. She was crimson now, but she was resolved not to make things worse by visible discomposure.
'Who was that obliging lady?' asked Lord Ernest.
'The last Mr. Underwood's daughter-in-law,' said Robin, so angry as to disclaim connection as much as possible; 'perhaps one is well off to have only one odd sort of relation.'
'I see a man who dined with Milwright yesterday,' exclaimed Lord Ernest. 'He may not be above all inns but the Antelope.'
He charged across the street, and brought back intelligence of a Fox's Brush in Castle Street, and of a short cut through a narrow alley and the churchyard; but there seemed risk of another miss, and besides, something like a waggonette was discerned near the top of the hill. It proved to be a break full of strangers; and by that time Robina, though bravely breasting the hill, was so tired and breathless that Lord Ernest offered his arm, but was refused with a certain weary sharpness.
At last the corner of Castle Street afforded a view of another hopeful looking vehicle a good way down; and at the same moment, Felix, very pink, hurried up from one quarter, and Will Harewood, fiery red, dashed down from another.
Felix had been to the Antelope by the by-street, and had met Mrs. Fulbert, then had posted after to overtake them; Willie had been all round the Castle, trying every gate in vain; Mr. Harewood was on the quest in another direction.
Robina thanked her escort, Felix did so more coldly, Willie gave a savage little bow, and they parted. Cherry was waiting in the waggonette, with the Major, who might not be overwalked, sitting on the box, holding the horse; and as Will was about to plunge after his father, Cherry called, 'Pray put on your hat! you look like a mad hatter instead of the March hare.'