“I shall take you home first,” he said.
“It will be ever so much out of your road. Just show me the way. I shall find it fast enough.”
“I dare say—After having lost it in broad daylight. You must come with me. I cannot trust you.”
Beatrice flushed hotly as she turned and walked beside him. Was more meant than met the ear?
“There is not the least need you should,” she said haughtily, and seemed disposed to say no more.
Tom spoke first, spoke in his abrupt peremptory fashion. He was absorbed and distrait. She tried not to feel disappointed at his words.
“Lady Beatrice, is it true that you knew Randolph Trevlyn intimately for many years?”
“Ever since I can remember. He was almost like a brother to us.”