"Crossjay ought to know him, if anybody should. Mr. Whitford has defended you against me, Clara, even since I took to calling you Clara. Perhaps when you supposed him so like your ancient governess, he was meditating how he could aid you. Last night he gave me reasons for thinking you would do wisely to confide in Mrs. Mountstuart. It is no longer necessary. I merely mention it. He is a devoted friend."
"He is an untiring pedestrian."
"Oh!"
Colonel De Craye, after hovering near the ladies in the hope of seeing them divide, now adopted the system of making three that two may come of it.
As he joined them with his glittering chatter, Laetitia looked at Clara to consult her, and saw the face rosy as a bride's.
The suspicion she had nursed sprung out of her arms a muscular fact on the spot.
"Where is my dear boy?" Clara said.
"Out for a holiday," the colonel answered in her tone.
"Advise Mr. Whitford not to waste his time in searching for Crossjay, Laetitia. Crossjay is better out of the way to-day. At least, I thought so just now. Has he pocket-money, Colonel De Craye?"
"My lord can command his inn."