“You are a goose! But you may tell dear Jasper; and tell her too that her little Eve will wait for her at the turnstile on Tuesday night at nine o’clock. Now then, let’s get ready or we shall be late for dinner.”
CHAPTER XX.—“NOT GOOD NOR HONORABLE.”
It was very late indeed when Sylvia got home. On this occasion she was not allowed to return to The Priory unaccompanied; Lady Frances insisted on Read going with her. Read said very little as the two walked over the roads together; but she was ever a woman of few words. Sylvia longed to question her, as she wanted to take as much news as possible to Jasper, but Read’s face was decidedly uninviting. As soon as the woman had gone, Sylvia slipped round to the back entrance, where Jasper was waiting for her. Jasper had the gate ajar, and Pilot was standing by her side.
“Come, darling—come right in,” she said. “The coast is clear, and, oh! I have a lot to tell you.”
She fastened the back gate, making it look as though it had not been disturbed for years, and a moment later the woman and the girl were standing in the warm kitchen.
“The door is locked, and he will not come,” said Jasper. “He is quite well, and I heard him go up-stairs to his bed an hour ago.”
“And did he eat anything, Jasper?”
“Oh, did he not, my love? Oh, I am fit to die with laughter when I think of it! He imagines that he has demolished one quarter of the scraggiest hen in the hen-house.”
“What! old Wallaroo?” replied Sylvia, a smile breaking over her face.
“Wallaroo, or whatever outlandish name you like to call the bird.”