He rose quietly, but not quietly enough to steal away. From behind the tree, a young man, rather tall and slender, rose and came towards him. Donal stood to receive him.
“I presume you are unaware that these grounds are not open to the public!” he said, not without a touch of haughtiness.
“I beg your pardon, sir,” said Donal. “I found the gate open, and the shade of the trees was enticing.”
“It is of no consequence,” returned the youth, now with some condescension; “only my father is apt to be annoyed if he sees any one—”
He was interrupted by a cry from farther up the hill—
“Oh, there you are, Percy!”
“And there you are, Davie!” returned the youth kindly.
A boy of about ten came towards them precipitately, jumping stumps, and darting between stems.
“Take care, take care, Davie!” cried the other: “you may slip on a root and fall!”
“Oh, I know better than that!—But you are engaged!”