"Oh, yes. He told me a year ago that he had, but did not mention to whom he had left his library. You are the executor."
"Am I, indeed? That is news to me, as Leigh never asked my permission. However"--Hendle was thinking of the probability of his ancestor's will being among the papers and books--"it is just as well under the circumstances."
"What do you mean by that?"
Hendle tugged at his moustache and replied in an embarrassed fashion, "Oh, nothing, only I can look after things better than a stranger, you know. By the way, Dorinda, I forgot to tell you that Carrington is coming down by the midday train."
"Coming again so soon," said Dorinda, remembering her father's warnings against the barrister, "and why?"
"Only about some business I went up to town about yesterday," answered Rupert confusedly. "Will you walk with me to the station to meet him?"
"No," said the girl promptly. "I don't want to meet Mr. Carrington again. I don't like him overmuch."
"Ah, you've been listening to your father, dear. Mallien likes no one."
"I saw Mr. Carrington myself, Rupert, and I didn't like him. I don't require my father to judge for me."
"What a spitfire you are!" laughed Hendle, putting his arm round her waist.