In the meantime Lady Rea had had a few words with Trevor.
“I declare I felt quite frightened of her, my dear.”
“It’s her way only,” said Trevor, smiling. “She nursed me like a mother, Lady Rea; and she and her husband have for years done almost as they liked here, only checked by the agent and my poor father’s executors, who seem to have come down once a year to look at the place so long as they lived; but they have both gone now.”
“She looked dreadfully cross, though, at Tiny—just as if, my dear, she was horribly jealous of her. And now, Richard, my dear, you won’t be offended if I ask a favour of you?”
“Certainly not,” said Trevor, in the same low whisper in which the conversation was carried on.
“Then make her send that niece of hers away. After what you told me, I’m sure it would be for the best; because while she is here the poor woman will always be thinking of her disappointed plans.”
“Well, but,” said Trevor, smiling, “I was thinking of hurrying on her marriage with my keeper, Humphrey; the poor fellow is desperately fond of her, and, as far as I can make out, the feeling is mutual.”
“Oh, if that’s it,” said Lady Rea, “pray don’t do anything to make the young people unhappy.”
“Yes, Trevor,” said Sir Hampton, “fifty feet by twenty will be the size.”
The conversation was carried on henceforth in voices pitched now in the normal key.