“Mr Ruddle!” exclaimed Miss Carr indignantly; and I saw the young man’s eyes glitter as he gazed at her sweet, sad face, twenty times more attractive now than when she was speaking lightly a minute before.
“I don’t want to be harsh, my dear, but here we are obliged to be firm and business-like. Now, boy, answer me; have you been to a good school?”
“No, sir,” I said, speaking sharply now, for his use of the word “impostor” stung me; “I was educated at home.”
“Humph! where do you come from?”
“Rowford, sir.”
“Town on a tall hill?”
“No, sir,” I said in surprise; “Rowford is quite in a hole; but we lived four miles from Rowford, sir, on the Cawleigh road.”
“Then you know Leydon Wood.”
“Oh yes, sir! that’s where papa used to take me to collect specimens.”
“Humph! Don’t say papa, my boy. Boys who go into the world to get their living don’t speak of their papas. John Lister!”