She shook her head sadly and the big tears stood in her eyes. There was no mistaking her earnestness now.
“None about my father. My uncle and aunt are coming to stay here. I expect them tonight.”
“Horrid nuisance that is!” remarked Cecil, sotto voce. “Never mind, you won’t be so lonely, little woman, will you? And you won’t have so much to look after. I must take you for a drive as soon as we get a fine, clear day; that’ll bring some colour into your cheeks. Good-bye!”
She came to the door and watched us drive off. Cecil took the reins and I climbed to his side, and, folding my arms, sat for a while in gloomy silence. Then suddenly a gleam of light, or what I hoped might prove so, broke in upon me and I laid my hand upon Cecil’s arm.
“Pull up, old chap—quick!” I exclaimed.
He did so, and looked at me wonderingly.
“Turn round and drive back again as fast as you can,” I said, my voice trembling a little with excitement; “I want to ask Milly Hart a question.”
CHAPTER XXXIV.
DR. SCHOFIELD’S OPINION.
In ten minutes we were in the streets of Little Drayton again, and Cecil had brought the dog cart to a standstill outside the “Rose and Crown.” He would have gone in with me, but I begged him not to. I jumped down and walked straight into the little parlour. Milly was sitting there alone, gazing absently into the fire. She looked up in surprise at my sudden entrance, and half rose.
“Milly, I want to ask you a question,” I said, going up to her side. “It’s about your father’s disappearance.”