“No, nor anybody else’s but mine,” cried Wilton, fiercely. Then as soon as he reached the foot of the ladder he gazed fiercely at his two men.
“Take that ladder back,” he said; “and mind this: if I find that any man I employ has been chattering about this business, I discharge him on the instant.—Thank you, Doctor, for coming. Of course, you will make a charge. The young lady seems to prefer fresh air.”
Leigh looked at him wildly, and strode rapidly away.
“Disappointed at losing his patient,” muttered Wilton, as he went in, to find his wife waiting for him with both her trembling hands extended.
“Quick!” she cried; “tell me the worst,” as she caught his arm.
He passed his arm about her waist, and seemed to sweep her into the library, where he closed the door, and pushed her down into an easy chair.
“There is no worst,” he said, in a low voice. “Now, look here; you must keep your mouth shut, and be as surprised as I am. It’s all right. She was only a bit scared yesterday. The boy knew what he was about. The cunning jade has bolted with him.”
“Gone—Kate?” cried Mrs Wilton.
“Yes; Claud was throwing dust in our stupid old eyes. The money won’t go out of the family, old girl. They’re on the way to be married now, and as for John Garstang—let him do his worst.”