“Oh, for goodness’ sake, Matty, do send that cross little wretch away,” cried Lady Rea, bursting into the room. “Mr Richard Trevor, is it?” she said, her plump countenance breaking into a pleasant smile as she gazed up at her visitor. “I’m very glad to see you,” she continued, holding out both hands, “and I hope we shall be very good neighbours.”
“I hope we shall, indeed,” said Trevor, shaking the little lady’s hands very heartily, and thinking what a homely, pleasant face it was.
“And aren’t you glad to get back? Did you enjoy yourself at sea? I hope you didn’t get wrecked!” said Lady Rea, in a breath.
“No; I reached home safe and sound,” said Trevor.
“We do have such storms on this coast sometimes. I’ve told Edward to look for his master. Hampy’s always about his grounds.”
“My sister means she has sent for Sir Hampton,” said Miss Matilda, frigidly. In fact, the cold was intense, and showed in her nose.
“Yes, I’ve sent for Sir Hampton,” said Lady Rea, feeling that she had made a slip. “The girls will be here, too, directly. You have met them?”
Miss Matilda darted a look of horror at her sister; but it missed her, and the little lady prattled on.
“They told me about meeting you twice; and, oh!—here, darlings!—Mr Trevor’s come to give us a neighbourly call.”
They came forward—Tiny to offer her hand in a quiet, unaffected manner, though a little blush would make its way into her cheek as her eyes met Trevor’s, and she felt the gentle pressure of his hand; Fin to screw up her face into a very prim expression, shake hands, and then retire, after the fashion taught by the mistress of deportment at her last school.