“Ah!” said John, still smiling. He understood now, he thought, the cause of Mr. Henderson’s clouded brow and sullen words.
“He is a handsome fellow, don’t you think, Miss Churchill?” he asked.
“People call him good-looking,” answered Miss Churchill, and she cast down her eyes a little consciously. “But I don’t think he has a nice temper; fancy him striking the poor dog!”
“Perhaps he was jealous because she seemed fond of you.”
“That was very foolish then.”
“Ah, but jealousy is a devouring demon,” said John Temple. “But, of course, you never felt it?”
“Oh, yes, I have!”
“I can not believe it, Miss Churchill, though I am sure you have caused much.”
Again that puzzled look stole over the girl’s face. She could not help feeling as though she knew Mr. Temple very well, and would like to talk nonsense to him, and yet she was conscious that perhaps she should not.