“Oh, this is too much, and at such a time,” cried Daisy. “Here, Jane, Jane. Let me go by.”
“No,” said Tom, catching her wrist, as she made for the interior of the house. “You shall not go to join him again. I’ll tak’ thee home to thy father.”
“Not yet, Tom, not yet. I’m not going to him. Here, Jane, Jane, quick. Where is Mr Richard?” she cried, as the maid came back.
“Dal thee!” cried Tom, as he threw her arm savagely away. “This before me!”
The girl looked at her and shook her head.
“Where is Mrs Glaire or Miss Pelly?”
“Out,” said the girl, “at Mr Purley’s.”
“And Mr Richard?” cried Daisy imploringly. “Quick: it is for his good,” while Tom, who heard her words, stood gnawing his lips with jealous rage.
“I don’t know,” said the girl. “He’s gone away.”
“Oh, this is dreadful,” said Daisy, looking bewildered. “Tom, will you not help me? I have been home, and cannot find father or mother. I come here and I cannot find Mr Richard.”