“For the simple reason that I did not know, Aunt,” said Neil quietly.
The footman, who had been waiting, signified his presence by a faint cough, received his orders, and left the room.
About this time Alison, who had been seated alone in the little study, smoking and trying to read, suddenly threw the book one way, the end of his cigar another, and rose with a yawn.
“Tired out and sleepy,” he muttered. “Last night to make up for.”
He seated himself on the table, and began swinging one leg about.
“Wonder how the guv’nor is,” he said to himself, “and I wonder what he would say if he had seen us this afternoon. Those girls are giving themselves fine airs of their own. Miss Dana is siding with her sister, I suppose because Neil is so careless. I can’t help it. No fault of mine, and if she thinks I am going to be snubbed and treated just as she pleases, she is mistaken. The money’s all very well, but I’m not quite the easy-going fool she seems to think me. Hang me, if I go for a ride with them again till I’m treated better.”
He gave his leg a sharp slap as a sudden thought struck him.
“That’s it!” he cried. “I never thought of it before. It’s Master Burwood’s doing. That accounts for his being down home instead of in town. He wouldn’t hang about so much on account of our Isabel. The governor’s made all that too easy for him. And they knew it, and there’s a sort of an idea that it would be nice to be my lady. Would it? Well, I’m not so stupid as they think me, and people get checkmated sometimes in a way they little expect.”
He swung his leg about swiftly for a few moments, and then leaped off the table.
“I’m going to bed,” he muttered. “Just see how the governor is as I go by, and—” he yawned—“oh, dear me! how sleepy I am.”