The footman took off his hat very politely to Minnie, then he climbed into the vacant seat at the back of the trap and the party drove forward.
Dan was full of the interview with Henry Vivian, and the two young men both sang the praises of their old companion.
“He’s off to foreign parts in a few weeks, but he hopes to be at my wedding,” said Dan. “He’d be very sorry not to be there. But he’ve got to go pretty soon to look after Sir Reginald’s business, by all accounts.”
“There’s been a lot of talk about the sugar estates in the West Indies,” explained Sim. “I overhear these things at table. Mr Henry’s going out to look into affairs. There’s an overseer—the son of Sir Reginald’s old overseer. But master doubts whether his figures can be trusted, and whether things are as bad as he says they are. So Mr Henry Vivian is going to run out without any warning. He’ll soon have the business ship-shape and find out any crooked dealings—such a clever man as he is.”
“Awful strict sure enough,” said Dan, with a chuckle. “He’d heard I was a bit of a free-trader in matters of sporting, an’ he was short an’ sharp, I promise you. However, ’tis only the point of view, an’ all owing to me being a Radical in politics. He knows that I’d not do a dirty trick, else he wouldn’t have bought me a new gun for a wedding present. I’ll show him some sport on Dartymoor come presently.”
Sim changed the subject.
“I hope you’ll like your home upalong, Miss Marshall,” he said.
Her lips tightened a little; she turned round and her fearless eyes met the speaker’s.
“Thank you, Mr Sim; and I hope so too.”
Her voice was cold and indifferent.