“Not so early as I could wish, sir. There is a special reason, too, for my being at the mine early. I have a sort of quarrel on the way with my principal man, Sturgess.”
Dinah turned pale, while there was a strange, fixed look in her eyes.
“The man has been very strange of late, and I had to take him severely to task to-day. I want to meet him when he first comes to the mine. There cannot be two masters there.”
He looked smilingly at Dinah, and saw the trouble in her face.
“Nothing to alarm you,” he said, taking her hand to hold in his, while the Major suddenly recollected that he had a letter he should like to send, so that one of the men could take it on in the morning.
“You are nervous again about my crossing the hills so late. Why should you be, dearest?”
He drew her toward him, and she yielded to his embrace.
“It was not that,” she said faintly. “You talked of a quarrel with—with—”
“My foreman, Sturgess. Hardly a quarrel, but the sharp talking to, necessary to be given by a master.” At that moment the dog began to bark violently, and Dinah caught Clive’s arm and clung to him in dread lest he should go possibly into danger.
“It is nothing, dearest,” he whispered, proud of the way in which she clung to him for protection, while she listened with her eyes dilated, as there was the sound of the window in the Major’s den being opened, and his voice challenging.