"But—but—you said—"
"Never mind what he said, Miss Di. 'Tis a scurvy fellow he is."
She regarded him gravely.
"Indeed, I almost think so."
But the dimple peeped out for all that! The next instant it was gone, and Diana turned a face of gloom to her aunt, pouting her red lips adorably, so thought my lord.
"Mr. Bettison," she said in accents of despair.
At these mystic words, Jack saw Miss Betty frown, and heard her impatient remark: "Drat the man!"
He looked towards the house, and perceived a short, rather stout, young man to be walking with a peculiar strutting gait towards them. The boy was good-looking, Carstares acknowledged to himself, but his eyes were set too close. And he did not like his style. No, certainly he did not like his style, nor the proprietary way in which he kissed Diana's hand.
"How agreeable it is to see you again, Mr. Bettison!" said Miss Betty with much affability. "I declare 'tis an age since we set eyes on you!"
"Oh, no, Aunt," contradicted Diana sweetly. "Why, it was only a very short while ago that Mr. Bettison was here, surely!" She withdrew the hand that the young man seemed inclined to hold fast to, and turned to John.