“Gammon!”
“She has, indeed, sir; and me and cook had to hold her down: she was so bad.”
“Hold her down?”
“Yes; and she kept on talking in a hurry like, all about the hunting and falling in the water.”
“Did she say anything about me?” said Tom Candlish eagerly.
“About you? I should think not, indeed. You men seem to think that ladies are always thinking about you. Such stuff!”
Then a long amount of whispering took place, Tom Candlish being one of those gentlemen who never fret after the absent, but possess a sailor-like power of taking the good the gods provide.
At the end of five minutes there was the sound of a smart smack—not a kiss, but the contact of a palm upon a cheek.
Then, from out the darkness came the expression, “You saucy jade!” following upon the rush of feet in flight.
A minute later the swing gate leading into the Rectory grounds was heard to clap to, and Tom Candlish stopped in his pursuit and walked home across the fields.