One afternoon Frank, now quite at his ease in his disguise, strolled over to the cottage to ask for afternoon tea. He brought a book of poems in his pocket, for Mildred was fond of hearing him read. Frank could read admirably, which is a rare accomplishment, and often he would declaim poems to Mrs. Perth and Mildred. But on this occasion there was no chance of enjoying Browning, for Jenny Arrow from the Rectory was present. She was a kittenish damsel of eighteen, with a freckled face, a turn-up nose, and a gay, vivacious manner. Also she had a vein of romance, and cherished an unrequited affection for the dark secretary. She confided this to Mildred.
"Doesn't he look a romance, dear?" said Jenny, when gazing from the drawing-room window she saw Frank approach. "Don't you love him, Milly?"
Mildred laughed, "I have had quite enough of love," she said. "That Denham boy worries my life out. Then there's your brother Billy."
"Oh, Billy's an ass!" said Jenny, contemptuously. "He falls in love with everyone he sees. I suppose you will marry Mr. Darrel?"
"Certainly not," said Mildred, quickly. "What put such an idea into your head, Jenny?"
The young lady nodded sagaciously. "Oh, I know," said she; "it's not to see poor pa that Mr. Darrel comes down here. Ma saw that. Ma says he's in love with you, and, being rich, you're sure to marry him."
"I would never marry for money, Jenny," said Mildred, thinking of Eustace. "Mr. Darrel will never make me his wife."
"Oh, but he's so very rich."
"Then marry him yourself."
"I would rather marry Mr. O'Neil."