"Right," said Sidney, looking back into the house to call, "Tell Dolly not to hurry wi' the dinner, grandfather."
"Dolly!" groaned George, somewhat enviously. He had clung to the hope that the girl's name might turn out to be Jane.
"You know, Sidney, I don't bear you any ill-feeling," he began, when they stood a few paces from the house, although his eyes were stricken with horror at discovering the young woman had been reading a book printed in French. "But there's some very loud talk up in Highfield about you and your goings on with the ladies."
"We have nought to do wi' Highfield volk, and we don't care that much vor their talk," replied Sidney, snapping his fingers.
"They are threatening to mob you," George whispered.
"Not they," laughed Sidney. "They ain't got it in 'em, and if a crowd did come down along me and grandfather would settle the lot."
"It's pretty bad to have young women here—from France too—one after the other. You can't blame the people for being a bit upset."
"If that's all you've got to say, Mr. Drake, I'll thank ye kindly, and tell ye I don't want to hear no more of it. Dolly is staying vor a week or two, and when she goes I'll get another," said the young outcast fiercely.
"I thought I'd just look in and warn you as I was passing," said George. "You know, Sidney, I don't blame you, and I think you're quite right not to give way to them. If I can help you in any way I shall be only too glad. These ignorant people don't understand men of the world like you and me."
"I reckon," said Sidney, with the deplorable grin of a completely dissipated soul.