'Who was the somebody?'
'He's a Mr. Nicholas Frim, sir.'
'Mr. Nicholas Frim will be very unhappy, I should think.'
'Yes, that's one comfort,' said Polly ruefully, drying her eyes.
Closely surrounding a young man as a young woman must be when both are on the same horse, they, as a rule, talk confidentially together in a very short time. His 'Are you cold?' when Polly shivered, and her 'Oh, no; not very,' and a slight screwing of her body up to him, as she spoke, to assure him and herself of it, soon made them intimate.
'I think Mr. Nicholas Frim mustn't see us riding into Beckley,' said
Evan.
'Oh, my gracious! Ought I to get down, sir?' Polly made no move, however.
'Is he jealous?'
'Only when I make him, he is.'
'That's very naughty of you.'