"I hope you like Thorpe, Miss Crane," said the Major in his ponderous way.
"Very much indeed. I like the quiet and peace."
"Really! Have you then had so stormy a life?"
"Oh no," Miriam laughed, and her merriment extracted a glare from Mrs. Darrow. "But I have lived a great deal in London, and the country is so restful after the roar of the city. Of course you prefer town?"
"No indeed; I was cut out by nature I believe for a country squire. I'm fond of soldiering of course," added the Major quickly, "but when I retire it will be to a place like this. I am more of a country bumpkin than my uncle. He's always running up to town."
"Is he?" murmured Miriam, thinking of Mrs. Perks and the hotel in Craven Street. "Why is that?"
"Oh, I don't know; he hunts after books and that sort of thing. My uncle is quite a student, you know."
Miriam did not think from what she knew of Mr. Barton that book hunting took up a very considerable portion of his time when in London; but evidently the simple Major believed the fiction in all good faith. But his next remark startled her.
"His taste in books is so peculiar," resumed Dundas, "and rather morbid; he collects all books dealing with crime."
Miss Crane paled, and hastily sipped her wine.