"How?"
"Oh, I ought not to say; but of course you would never repeat——"
"Rather not; surely you can trust a fel——"
"Well, then, she used to be engaged—or perhaps it wasn't an absolute engagement—to someone else: he went out to Australia, and made money, and now that he has come back she's thrown him over for this Mr. Miles, who also comes from Australia. I know it for a fact, because Mrs. Parish told mamma as much."
"Poor chap! Who is he?"
"Mr. Edmonstone; one of the Edmonstones who lived in that big house across the river—surely you remember?"
"Oh, ah!"
"I believe he is here to-night—moping somewhere, I suppose."
"Poor chap! Hallo, there's the music! By Jove! I say, this is awful; we shall have to part!"
They went; and Dick rose up with a bitter smile. He would have given much, very much, for the privilege of wringing that young whippersnapper's neck. Yet it was not the boy's fault; some fate pursued him: there was no place for him—no peace for him—but in the open air.