‘The initials are certainly his,’ she thought, ‘and I’m almost sure he had a plaid something like that one; but, after all, I cannot be certain, and the initials J. P. might fit half a hundred names—John Platt, or James Philpott, or Joseph Plowden. It is silly of me to make sure they belong to Mr Portland until I have better proof. What should he be doing here in Usk? I never heard him mention the place, nor the name of Sir Archibald. I saw so much of him, they would have been sure to crop up some time or other. Oh, I have been frightening myself with a bogey. I am sure I have. How weak my nerves must have become. I was never like this in the old days,’ and Nell heaved a deep sigh as she spoke. Still, as the day drew to a close, and the owners of the portmanteaus might be expected to arrive at any moment to dress for dinner, she grew so nervous she could not stay in the house. The first person she encountered outside it was Hugh Owen, come to see if she would go for a country walk with him.
‘No,’ said Nell decidedly; ‘I can’t walk to-night. Mother wants me, and I have work to do indoors.’
‘Have you heard that all the company’s arrived at the Hall?’ demanded Hugh; ‘six carriages full, the gardener told me, and as many more expected to-morrow.’
‘Of course I know it,’ replied the girl petulantly; ‘we’ve two of them coming to sleep at the farm to-night. Do you know who they are?’
‘No, I heard no names, except those of Sir Archibald and Lady Bowmant. What is it that is keeping you indoors, Nell?’ asked Hugh.
‘Nothing that concerns you,’ she answered.
He looked surprised at her manner, but did not notice it openly.
‘I thought, if it wouldn’t take you long, you might come out a little later. A walk would do you good. You are looking very pale.’
‘No, I shall not go out this evening,’ she replied. ‘I’m tired, and want to be quiet and by myself.’
‘That means I’m to go then, dear,’ he said wistfully.