“You do. More sweet, more lovable. Oh, Dinah, there was never such a happy fellow before. This place is a paradise after grimy old London, and—oh, here is the Major, I can hear his step.”
Dinah turned pale.
“That is not his step,” she said, as she looked excitedly toward the window.
Clive rose, went to it, and looked out.
“Why, it’s Robson,” he cried. “Hang it! I hope there is nothing wrong. I’ll go and meet him.” Before he was outside Dinah was after him, and she hurriedly placed her hand upon his arm.
“Eh? Well, come with me then, pet. I have no secrets from you.—Well, Robson, what’s the matter? Sturgess worse?”
“No, sir, but you are wanted over yonder directly.”
“Wanted?”
“Yes, sir, there’s a party of gentlemen come down.”
“What—visitors? Oh, hang them; they want to see the mine, I suppose?”