The man lifted his hat and walked away.
‘A very decent person,’ remarked Celia; ‘not a bit like the popular notion of a burglar, but perhaps not altogether unlike the real thing. A respectable appearance must be a great advantage to a criminal.’
‘There it is,’ cried Laura joyfully.
‘What?’
‘The carriage. Yes, I am sure. Yes—he is coming. Let’s run on to the gate, Celia.’
They ran as fast as a brace of school-girls, and arrived at the gate in a flutter of excitement, just in time to see the neat little brougham turn into the avenue.
‘Jack,’ cried Laura.
‘Stop,’ cried Jack, with his head out of the window, and the coachman pulled up his horses, as his master jumped out of the carriage.
‘Come out, Sampson,’ said Mr. Treverton. ‘We’ll walk to the house with the ladies.’
He put his wife’s hand through his arm and walked on, leaving Celia to Mr. Sampson’s escort.