“Where is Vane Trevor now?” inquired the elder lady, gathering up her majestic manner again.
“He was talking to the governor at the hall-door.”
“Oh! then we shall see him in a moment,” said Mrs. Kincton Knox.
“Mind now, Howard, you’re not to say one word to Mr. Herbert or to Vane Trevor about your telling us anything,” added Miss Clara.
“Aint I though? I just will, both of them, my man, unless you pay me my shilling,” replied Master Howard.
“Mamma, do you hear him?” exclaimed Miss Clara in a piteous fury.
“What do you mean, Sir?” interposed his mamma vigorously, for she was nearly as much frightened as the young lady.
“I mean I’ll tell them; yes I will, I’m going,” and he skipped with a horrid grimace, and his thumb to his nose, toward the door.
“Come back, Sir; how dare you?” almost screamed Miss Clara.
“Here, Sir, take your shilling,” cried Mrs. Kincton Knox, with a stamp on the floor and flashing eye, fumbling hurriedly at her purse to produce the coin in question. “There it is, Sir, and remember.”