"But," exclaimed Mr Tosh, "what a villainous look he has! That means murder, robbery, and all the other seven deadly sins."
"Not at all," said Miss Laverock. "These black beetle brows were very likely handed down to him from his grandmother, along with a stocking full of her savings. The stocking he has squandered; but he couldn't get rid of the beetle brows."
"Yes," remarked Mr Tosh, "he has squandered the stocking, if we may judge from the bare toes peeping out from the ventilating holes in his shoes."
"That little man beside him," said Mr Stocks, "is his inseparable companion, although he looks a being of a different stamp. He has not been used to this kind of labour. His features are refined, and his hands are white and delicate."
"Oh!" said Mr Tosh, "he's the worst of the two. He reminds me of a portrait I once saw of Jack Sheppard—keen, rat-like eyes, and fingers like claws itching to clutch his prey. But, look! how he is darting glances at Miss Laverock. By Jove, Miss Laverock, you have made a conquest! I congratulate you."
But Miss Laverock did not reply. She was dumb with amazement and horror. The sight of that face had recalled a painful episode in her life; and, under the coarse guise of a reaper, she had recognised one who had formerly been very dear to her. After a few moments she recovered so far, and tried to resume the conversation; but her spirit and elasticity were gone. All the members of her party noticed the sudden collapse. Mr Tosh asked if she had been hurt by the rude staring of that man, and offered to give the fellow a wigging on the spot. And Mr Stocks, remarking that the heat was too much for her, drew her arm into his, and suggested that they should all return to the house.
But there was one person who did not take such a lenient view of the incident. This was Miss Jaap. She had already expressed to her chosen confidante, the tablemaid, her opinion of Miss Laverock.
"People," she had said, "admire what they call her brightness. Well, forwardness is often mistaken for cleverness. I might even use a stronger word than forwardness. I might call it by the good old-fashioned name of impudence. And the way she ogles men, and jokes with them, and leads them on to make idiots of themselves—it's disreputable. That's what it is."
And now, here was an incident which seemed to justify all Miss Jaap's suspicions, and to give her an opportunity of supplanting her rival. Her excitement was so great that she could scarcely walk home quietly along with the others. And when she reached the farm-house, she rushed, bursting with confidence, to the tablemaid.