It was an unexpected question, and she could not answer immediately.
He helped her by adding, “Ye needna be shy. Mr. Symington left here half-an-hour back to look for ye.”
“No,” she answered, “he didn’t meet me.” Strange that her uncle should speak of the man as “Mr.”
“Eh? No.” She repeated. “He didn’t meet me.”
“That’s queer.” Uncle and aunt exchanged glances, and the latter asked. “Where were ye to-night?”
“At the railway.”
“And ye didn’t see Mr. Symington?”
“Yes. I saw him—at a distance.”
There was a pause before Mr. Corrie spoke with less smoothness than previously.
“Did ye keep away from him!”