“I’ve seen them,” said I.
“And I’ve two more upstairs in my study,” he continued. “Aye, well, I’m greatly pleased! And you’re staying in these parts?”
“I came to the hotel at Wooler three days ago, just to look round the Cheviots,” I answered.
“Any definite time?” he asked.
“No,” said I. “I’m my own master as to that.”
“Then when old Edie can get through the snow, we’ll just send across to Wooler for your things, and you’ll consider this house yours, Mr. Craye,” he said, with a nod of his head which implied that he would take no refusal. “Your very obedient servant, sir, as long as you like to stop in it!”
“There!” exclaimed Miss Durham; “I knew you’d get on together like a house on fire! But perhaps Mr. Craye thinks he might be dull?”
“Mr. Craye thinks nothing of the sort,” I retorted hastily. “He’s overwhelmed on all sides. You’re extremely kind, Mr. Parslewe; your sense of hospitality is princely.”
“Pooh, pooh!” he said. “We’ll just be glad. And there’s no need to be dull, my girl, when you’re about!” he added, nodding at his ward. “A lively damsel, this, Craye; the air of the hills is in her blood!”
“Miss Durham, sir, is, I am sure, one of those admirable hostesses who could never let a guest be anything but happy,” I said, with a glance towards the object of my compliment. “And,” I added, more seriously, “I should be very ungrateful not to accept your kind invitation. I won’t let you get tired of me.”