“Yes, Syd dear,” whispered the girl; “but I’m awful tired, you know.”
“Pst! Oh, it’s you, Jane.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll light that lamp if you’ll stand aside.”
“Oh, yes, do. It’s beastly dark.”
Jane began lighting up and stealing glances full of admiration as she handled match after match slowly, every glance affording her satisfaction, especially when the hood of the cloak Molly wore was thrown back and the girl gave her a pleasant, admiring smile, and showed a pair of laughing eyes and a set of pearly teeth.
“Why, it’s master’s biking young lady,” said Jane to herself, in astonishment. “There’ll be a row after this.”
“Where’s auntie, Jane?” said Syd, suddenly.
“Not come back from Tilborough yet, sir,” replied the girl, snappishly.
Sir Hilton, who was still walking up and down, turned sharply at the words “auntie” and “Tilborough”; but he said nothing, only passed his hand in a fidgety way over his forehead and continued his wild-beast-like walk, muttering every now and then to himself, till he stopped suddenly close to the young couple, who were whispering together.
“Tackle him directly he comes in, pet,” Syd was saying.