He bowed gravely.
“Miss Bryce,” he said, formally.
“Captain O’Leary,” she replied, looking intently at his moustache.
He passed his hand over his face slowly with inquiry in his eyes.
“I beg your pardon,” mumbled Isabelle, blushing.
“I know. I remind ye of somebody. I always remind everybody of somebody,” he added, with his pleasant suggestion of brogue.
Isabelle seized upon the opportunity.
“You do, rather. Isn’t he like Patsy Reilly, the gardener’s boy at The Beeches, Miss Watts?”
“Why no!” exploded Miss Watts. “Certainly not.”