“But I said, sir, you were no master of mine—Master Dick—Mr Trevor, sir. We were boys together here—at the old place—don’t send me away!”
“There, go now; that will do. Yes, it’s all right, Humphrey. I’m not angry. Send you away? No, certainly not; only go now, and don’t make a scene,” said Trevor, incoherently, his eyes the while turned in another direction; for he had heard footsteps, and at the turn of the lane he could see through the trees that Mr Mervyn was coming, with his two companions.
Trevor hurried off through the wood, so as to gain the path a hundred yards in advance, and then he sauntered along so as to meet them.
“If I can get a few words with her I can explain,” he said; and then they were close at hand.
“Ah, Mr Trevor!” cried Mervyn, gaily, for he seemed elated, and he held out his hand.
Before Trevor could take it, Fin had looked straight before her and marched on, her little lips pinched together, and her arm tight in that of her sister; while Tiny met Trevor’s gaze in one short, sad look—piteous, reproachful, and heartbroken—before she hurried away.
Invitations.
Trevor returned home in no very enviable frame of mind. The look Tiny Rea had given him troubled him more than he could express, and he felt ready to rail at Fortune for the tricks she had played him. Old Lloyd came, smiling and deferential, into the room with some letters, which his master snatched up and threw on the table.
“In which room are Captain Vanleigh and Sir Felix?”