The girl turned to go, her eyes meeting those of the “dear boy,” who favoured her with a meaning wink, receiving by way of reply a telegraphic wrinkling up of the skin about a saucy little retroussé nose.
“Little minx,” said the “dear boy” to himself.
“Young impudence,” said the girl, and she closed the door, to return in a few minutes to show in Mr Trimmer, her ladyship’s confidential bailiff and steward of the estate.
Chapter Two.
A Most Trustworthy Person.
“Ah, good-morning, Mr Trimmer,” said Lady Lisle. “Don’t go, Sydney, my dear. It is as well that you should be present. You cannot do better than begin to learn the duties of a person of position—the connection between the owner of property and his, or her, dependants.”
“All right, auntie,” said Syd, returning, with a quick nod and a keen look, the obsequious bow of the gaunt-looking man in white cravat and pepper-and-salt garb.
“Sit down, Mr Trimmer.”