“You were down there?” I said eagerly.
“Yes, Antony, and I had a long chat with the old clergyman there, when he visited my friends. He knew your father and mother.”
“Oh yes,” I said, as a flood of recollections came back.
“And he asked me very kindly about you, saying he thought Mr Blakeford had behaved very badly to Mr Grace.”
“I mean to pay Mr Blakeford every penny my dear father owed him,” I said, flushing, and getting up from the couch. “He shall not dare to speak ill of the dead.”
Miss Carr looked at me curiously, and I thought her manner was more tender to me as she took my hand and once more drew me to her side.
“About this Mr Revitts, Antony,” she said; “I think the time has come now when you should have different lodgings.”
“Oh, Miss Carr!” I exclaimed, “he has been so kind to me, such a good friend; and now poor Mary has come up, and they are going to be married, and Mary would be terribly disappointed if I went to lodge anywhere else. He’s Sergeant Revitts now: he has been promoted.”
“If Mr and Mrs Revitts set up a home of their own, that would be different,” she said thoughtfully. “But in your new position, Antony, you ought to be better provided for than while you were at the office.”
“In my new position?” I said, hesitating.