“Please, sir, I’m very sorry,” faltered the girl.
“Sorry! Why? Have you come out here,” he continued, suspiciously, “to meet Humphrey?”
“Please, sir—no, sir,” said the girl, looking appealingly in his frank face.
“Having a walk then, eh?”
“Please, sir, aunt sent me,” said the girl.
“Polly, my little maid, I believe you are a good girl,” said Trevor, his face growing dark—“there, don’t cry, I’m not angry with you. Speak out, and trust me. You are not afraid of me?”
“Oh no, sir. Humphrey says you’re so good and kind,” said the girl.
“Thanks to Humphrey for his good opinion,” said Trevor. “But, now, tell me plainly, what does all this mean?”
“Please, sir, I dursen’t,” sobbed the girl.
“Nonsense, child! Tell me directly.”