"Oh, Mr. Claude Larcher," said Jenny, rather alarmed, for he had gripped her arm, "the son of the deceased man. He is staying at the Manor House with Mr. Tait."
For a few minutes Kerry stood looking at the ground in silence. Up to the present he had succeeded in preserving his calm, but the last piece of news upset him altogether, and he burst into violent speech.
"Augh! it's sorrow that is coming to this house, and the black curse will be on the threshold. Cold will the hearth be soon, and the old master will be driven out. Ohone! and we and time will have sent him into the cold world. Whirra! whirra!"
Jenny was so dumfounded by the unexpected eloquence of the old man that she could do nothing but stare at him. He caught her eye, and seeing that he had been indiscreet in so betraying himself, he cut short his lamentations, wiped his eyes, and relapsed once more into the crusty, faithful Kerry whom she knew. But he gave her a word of warning before he took his departure. "Say nothing of this, Miss Jenny," he remarked; "sure it's an old fool I am. Keep a silent tongue as the master and lawyer wishes you to do, and then, please the saints, things will go the better."
"But, Kerry, before you go, tell me. What is Mr. Hilliston to my father?"
"He is your father's best friend, miss," said Kerry, with emphasis; "his best and his worst," and with that enigmatic reply he hurried off down the lane in the direction of the vicarage, leaving Jenny in a state of bewilderment.
She could understand nothing, and at that moment sorely needed some friend with whom she could consult. Kerry gave her no satisfaction, and spoke so indefinitely that his conversation mystified in place of enlightening her; it was no use to make a confidant of Frank Linton, as notwithstanding his London reputation, which she had greatly contributed to, Jenny did not consider him sufficiently steady to be told of the commotion raised by his novel in her immediate circle. She could, therefore, discuss the matter with no one, and so annoyed was she by the whole affair that she by no means could bring herself to go back to the house while Hilliston was yet there. He would be gone, she trusted, in another half hour or so, and pending his departure she strolled along the lane in the hope of evading him.
But she only escaped Scylla to fall into Charybdis, for, as she turned the corner, Tait and Claude met her almost face to face. Jenny would have given much to escape this awkward meeting, and intimated her wish for solitude by passing the young men with a curt bow. The sight of Claude, the memory of his father's death, coupled with the suspicions she entertained, wrought her up to a pitch of excitement which she had great difficulty in concealing. She was, therefore, greatly annoyed when Tait took off his hat, and placed himself directly in her path. The little man thought it was too favorable an opportunity for introduction to be overlooked.
"Don't go away, Miss Paynton," he said, smiling. "I wish to introduce you to my friend Mr. Larcher. Claude, this is Miss Paynton, of whom you have heard me speak."
"How do you do, Miss Paynton?" said Claude, with a suave bow. "I hope you will pardon the irregularity of this introduction."