“Now, then, am I right?”
Sir Hampton Rea and Aunt Matty appeared upon the scene.
Dear Aunt Matty had had her way, and was satisfied. Quiet as she was, she had her suspicions of Trevor’s earnest talk to Lady Rea; and when Vanleigh drew her attention to the fact that the two imprudent young people had strolled off into the conservatory, by saying, “I suppose Miss Rea finds the room too close?” she gave him a significant look.
“Sit down and hold Pepine for me, Captain Vanleigh,” she said, in a low voice, “and I’ll soon put a stop to that.”
Vanleigh said something very naughty, sotto voce, and then, as he felt bound to flatter Aunt Matty, he seated himself, and nursed the wretched little dog, while Aunt Matty made her way to Sir Hampton, who was deep in a political speech, to which Sir Felix kept saying “Ya-as” and “Ver’ true,” eyeing Fin the while through his glass.
Fin’s sharp eyes detected something wrong, and she tried a flank movement.
“Go and tell my sister I want her directly, Mr Pratt,” she said—“in the conservatory.”
It was too late; Aunt Matty’s forced march had done it.
“Eh! what? Er-rum!” ejaculated Sir Hampton.