“Why, anyhow,” said the girl. “I have taught myself mostly. But please do not ask me any questions. I don’t want to think of my own life at all to-day; I am so very happy at being with you two.”
Audrey immediately turned the conversation; but soon, by a sort of instinct, it crept back again to the curious occurrence which had taken place at Miss Henderson’s school.
“Please do not speak of it at lunch,” said Audrey, “for we have not told mother or father anything about it. We hope that this disgraceful thing will not be made public, but that the culprit will confess.”
“Much chance of that!” said Evelyn; and she nudged Sylvia’s arm, on which she happened to be leaning.
The girls presently went into the house. Lunch followed. Lady Frances was extremely kind to Sylvia—in fact, she made a pet of her. She looked with admiration at the pretty and suitable costume, and wondered in her own heart what she could do for the little girl.
“I like her,” she said to herself. “She suits me better than any girl I have ever met except my own dear Audrey. Oh, how I wish she were the heiress instead of Evelyn!”
Evelyn was fairly well behaved; she had learnt to suppress herself. She was now outwardly dutiful to Lady Frances, and was, without any seeming in the matter, affectionate to her uncle. The Squire was always specially kind to Evelyn; but he liked young girls, and took notice of Sylvia also, trying to draw her out. He spoke to her about her father. He told her that he had once known a distinguished man of the name, and wondered if it could be the same. Sylvia colored painfully, and showed by many signs that the conversation distressed her.
“It cannot be the same, of course,” said the Squire lightly, “for my friend Robert Leeson was a man who was likely to rise to the very top of his profession. He was a barrister of extreme eminence. I shall never forget the brilliant way he spoke in a cause célèbre which occupied public attention not long ago. He won the case for his clients, and covered himself with well-earned glory.”
Sylvia’s eyes sparkled; then they grew dim with unshed tears. She lowered her eyes and looked on her plate. Lady Frances nodded softly to herself.
“The same—doubtless the same,” she said to herself. “A most distinguished man. How terribly sad! I must inquire into this; Edward has unexpectedly given me the clue.”