“Poor Dick!”
She said it in such a heartfelt tone of commiseration that the tears came into his eyes, and when she saw them, a sympathetic mist came over her eyes too.
“They think you have gone away,” she said in a whisper, glancing up at the windows which overlooked the court-yard, “but I knew better!”
“Who are ‘they’?”
“My father and Mr. Thurley.”
“Your father! I didn’t know that he was alive till yesterday. What will he do? There will be all sorts of difficulties about the trick he played.”
“He will have to go away. But he seems rather glad; he is tired of living up here, he says.”
She spoke rather sadly.
“And you?” said Dick.
“Oh, I’m not tired of it. I think the old Abbey-church the most beautiful place in the world. I should like to spend my life here.”