"I suppose she told you all about it?" said he, suddenly pursuing his own train of thought.
"Who?" inquired Beatrix.
"I never was a particular favourite of her's, you know—grandmamma's, I mean. She does not love me, poor old woman! And she has a knack of making herself precious disagreeable, in which I try to imitate her, for peace' sake, you know; for, by George, if I was not uncivil now and then, we could never get on at all."
Sir Jekyl chuckled after his wont, as it were, between the bars of this recitative, and he asked—
"What were the particulars—the adventure on Sunday—that young fellow, you know?"
Miss Beatrix had heard no such interrogatory from her grandmamma, whose observations in the church-aisle were quite as unknown to her; and thus far the question of Sir Jekyl was a shock.
"Did not grandmamma tell you about it?" he pursued.
"About what, papa?" asked Beatrix, who was glad that it was dark.
"About her illness—a young fellow in a pew down in the aisle staring at her. By Jove! one would have fancied that sort of thing pretty well over. Tell me all about it."
The fact was that this was the first she had heard of it.