“Come, come, Murray,” said his uncle, “you can go back now and continue your attentions to Roy; Roy will be jealous; look how he is sniffing your coat.”
“Roy has no reason to be jealous,” said the little fellow in a determined, manly voice; “he must be a very silly dog if he supposes I can compare him to a beautiful lady.”
Rowton burst into a loud laugh.
“Jove! youngster, you are coming on,” he said; “there, you may go now, in any case; you may come to dessert if your eyes remain open long enough.”
“I am not likely to sleep,” said the boy. He gave another glance of the broadest admiration at Nancy, and then walked gravely down the room, accompanied by the boarhound.
“How is it you never told me about that dear little fellow, Adrian?” said Nancy.
Rowton rumpled up his hair with a careless movement.
“I forgot his existence,” he said briefly.
“Forgot the existence of a splendid boy like that!” said Nancy in astonishment.