‘Mr. Debenham!’
From the distinct start and shuffle that followed, Tor was convinced that he had interrupted a conversation in which his name occupied a prominent place. In nowise disconcerted, however, he walked up and shook hands in his easiest fashion, and then sat down in such a position as commanded a good view of both the countenances before him.
‘I hear you walked over to see me yesterday morning,’ began Tor, addressing Mrs. Belassis. ‘I am sorry you had your trouble for nothing. I have come over to learn the object of your visit, and save you the trouble of a second walk.’
‘Oh, thank you—I am sorry you took the trouble. I merely came to ask if you could supply us with butter for a time. I suppose it must be the hot weather, for we cannot make half enough for ourselves just now.’
‘So that was the important message that could not be trusted to paper,’ said Tor, with a smile. ‘Yes, certainly you shall have all you need. I will speak to the man to-morrow. I am sorry such a small affair should have occasioned you so long a walk.’
‘It did not, thanks; I was close to Ladywell as it happened, and I wanted to see your aunt.’
Tor knew she had made no attempt to see Mrs. Lorraine, and his slight questioning smile said as much; but he made no open comment. Mrs. Belassis sat stonily composed. If she had any inward trepidation she gave no outward sign of it.
Tor turned to the uncle.
‘We are getting almost dried up here in the south, sir. We look quite parched. In Yorkshire now, everything is beautifully fresh—though not so forward as with us.’
‘You have been in Yorkshire, then?’ questioned Mrs. Belassis, as if she welcomed the change of subject.