“That was it,” said Ralph, “Macneillie was telling me how Mr. Hereford gave up his property, Monkton Verney, and turned it into a sort of Cave of Adullam.”
He did not mention to Evereld that Christine Greville was now staying at this very place. Sooner or later she was sure to hear the whole story, but he shrank from telling her what had passed at Mearn Castle, and in no other way could he explain the step Lady Fenchurch had taken. “What is Mr. Hereford like?” he inquired.
“I like him very much,” said Evereld; “he is down here until to-morrow, so you will see him for yourself. Bride says that till he was married he never seemed to settle down to anything, that he was the sort of man everyone expected to do great things, and he never did them. But afterwards it was quite different; he began to work very hard, and now she says out in county Wicklow the peasants love him, and he makes such a good landlord. Bride says he’s almost as Irish as they are.”
“And you are here with them for a fortnight? Where after that?”
“With the Mactavishs in Switzerland. We shall be a party of six altogether. I am to go to keep Lady Mactavish company, for Minnie will be a good deal taken up you see with Major Gillot; they are engaged, the wedding is to be this autumn. Then there will be Sir Matthew and Mr. Bruce Wylie.”
“The inevitable Wylie!” said Ralph impatiently. “I hate that man.”
“And I like him very much,” said Evereld perversely. “You always had a most unfair prejudice against him. He will certainly be the life of the party. I was delighted to hear that he was going.”
Ralph’s face grew grave, there was an expression in it which startled Evereld as he turned towards her.
“Tell me in earnest,” he said anxiously. “Do you really like this man?”
Her truthful eyes met his fully.