"And for three mortal hours he stood there, while I sat up aloft grinning at him," says Mr. Massereene, with (considering his years) a disgraceful appreciation of his past immoral conduct; "and when at last the gardener was induced to mount the tree and drag me ignominiously to the ground, I got such a flogging as made a chair for some time assume the character of a rack."
"And you deserved it, too," says Letitia, with unwonted severity.
"I did, indeed, my dear," John confesses, heartily, "richly. I am glad to see that at last you begin to take a sensible view of the subject. If I deserved a flogging because I once shirked my tasks, what does not Lovat deserve for a long course of such conduct?"
"He is not accused of stealing apples, at all events; and, besides, Lovat is quite different," says Letitia, vaguely. Whereupon John tells her her heart is running away with her head, and that her partiality is so apparent that he must cease from further argument, and goes on with his reading.
Presently, however, he rises, and, crossing the room, stands over her, watching her white shapely fingers as they deftly fill up the holes in the little socks that lie in the basket beside her. She is so far en rapport with him as to know that his manner betokens a desire for confidence.
"Have you anything to say to me, dear?" she asks, looking up and suspending her employment for the time being.
"Letitia," begins he, thoughtfully, not to say solemnly, "it is quite two months since Luttrell first put in an appearance in this house. Now, I don't wish to seem inhospitable,—far be it from me: a thirst for knowledge alone induces me to put the question,—but, do you think he means to reside here permanently?"
"It is certainly very strange," says Letitia, unmoved by his eloquence to even the faintest glimmer of a smile, so deep is her interest in the subject,—"the very oddest thing. If, now, it were a place where a young man could find any amusement, I would say nothing; but here! Do you know, John,"—mysteriously,—"I have my suspicions."
"No!" exclaims Mr. Massereene, betraying the wildest curiosity in voice and gesture,—so wild as to hint at the possibility of its not being genuine. "You don't say so!"
"It has once or twice occurred to me——"