Otto looked perplexed by this information; but over Miss Bostal’s thin, pinched face there came a little, pale smile.
“Try the Blue Lion,” she said, rather primly.
Otto grew stiff.
“My friend is no frequenter of taverns,” said he.
“Try the Blue Lion,” said Miss Bostal again.
Her father burst into a little, dry laugh.
“The Blue Lion has a good many frequenters who are not frequenters of other taverns,” said he. “Nell Claris, the niece of the man who keeps it, is a protégée of my daughter’s, and the prettiest girl in the place.”
A light broke over Otto’s face. But Miss Bostal looked grave.
“I shall have to speak to her very seriously,” said she, with a little frown. “She encourages half the young men of Stroan to waste their time out here.”
But the colonel smiled and shook his head doubtfully.