Mildred grew suddenly pale.
"We shall hear glorious news, boy, before many days," replied Lindsay; "as yet, all is uncertain. Henry, away to your sports, or to your studies. Mildred, I have something for your ear, and so, my child, walk with me a while."
Henry took his leave, looking back anxiously at his sister, whose countenance expressed painful alarm. Mildred accompanied her father slowly and silently to the small veranda that shaded the door of the gable next the terrace.
CHAPTER XXXIV.
MILDRED PUT TO A SEVERE TRIAL:—HER FIRMNESS.
"My mind troubles me," said Lindsay: "Mildred, hear me—and mark what I say. Our fortunes are coming to a period of deep interest: it is therefore no time to deal in evasive speeches, or to dally with coy and girlish feelings. I wish, my daughter, to be understood."
"Father, have I offended you?" inquired Mildred, struck with the painful and almost repulsive earnestness of Lindsay's manner.
"Arthur Butler has been at the Dove Cote," he said, sternly, "and you have concealed it from me. That was not like my child."