“Oh, the deuce!”
“Better lose nae mair time, Master Frank. I’ll say I found ye yon side o’ T’ Elms.”
“What has The Elms got to do with it?”
The man grinned.
“Noo, Master Frank, just mount an’ be off in front. T’ Squire thinks ye’re efther that black-eyed lass o’ Mrs. Saumarez’s. Don’t try an’ humbug him. He telt me te lay my huntin’-crop across yer shoulders, but that’s none o’ my business. Off ye go!”
The heir, sulky and in deep tribulation, obeyed. They heard the horse’s hoofbeats dying away rapidly.
Elsie, an exceedingly nice-mannered girl, was essentially feminine. The episode thrilled her, and pleased her, too, in some indefinable way, for her companion was holding her tightly.
“Just fancy that!” she whispered.
“Oh, he will only get a hiding.”
“But, surely, he could not expect to meet Angèle?”