“Bless you, Mr. Leeson!—bless you!—yes, I am the woman.”
“You will let me buy it from you?”
“Certainly—yes,” replied Jasper, not quite knowing whether to laugh or to cry. “But I am going to get you some breakfast now.”
“And who is the other girl?”
“Does he know about her too?” thought Jasper. “What can have happened in the night?”
“If you mean my dear little Miss Eve, why, no one has a better right to be here, for she belongs to me and I pay for her—yes, every penny; and, for the matter of that, she only came last night. But do not fash yourself now, my good sir; you are past thought, I take it, and you want a hearty meal.”
Jasper bustled away; Mr. Leeson lay back in his chair. Was the world turning upside down? What had happened? Oh, if only he could feel well! If only that giddiness would leave him! What was the matter? He had been so well and so fierce and so strong a few hours ago, and now—now even his anger was slipping away from him. He had felt quite comforted when he leaned on Jasper’s strong arm; and when she pushed him into the armchair and wrapped an old blanket round him, he had enjoyed it rather than otherwise. Oh! he ought to be nearly mad with rage; and yet somehow—somehow he was not.
CHAPTER XXX.—THE LOADED GUN.
Now, it so happened that the fuss and confusion incident on Evelyn’s departure had penetrated to every individual in the Castle with the exception of the Squire; but the Squire had been absent all day on business. He had been attending a very important meeting in a neighboring town, and, as his custom was, told his wife that he should probably not return until the early morning. When this was the case the door opening into his private apartments was left on the latch. He could himself open it with his latch-key and let himself in, go to bed in a small room prepared for the purpose, and not disturb the rest of the family. Lady Frances had many times during the previous evening lamented her husband’s absence, but when twelve o’clock came and the police who had been sent to search for Evelyn could nowhere find the little girl, and when the different servants had searched the house in vain, and all that one woman could think of had been done, Lady Frances, feeling uncomfortable, but also convinced in her own mind that Evelyn and Jasper were quite safe and snug somewhere, resolved to go to bed.
“It is no use, Audrey,” she said to her daughter; “you have cried yourself out of recognition. My dear child, you must go to bed now, and to sleep. That naughty, naughty girl is not worth our all being ill.”