'I'm sure I hope so, sir,' cried the man, sorely puzzled, and not a little hurt by the dictatorial and patronising tone of his master.
His chagrined look touched Mr. Carmichael's heart.
'Why, certainly, James; I regard you as a proved friend. Don't look as though I had called you a murderer. We've faced perils together, and—and——'
Suddenly the 'squire' discovered that he was speaking strangely after the manner of his brother (Catherine's Uncle Jack), and this surprising fact made him break down altogether in his speech. The question to which he had been gently leading up, in order not to surprise James into feeling curious about it, burst without any warning from his lips.
'Do you think Miss Catherine liked me—was fond of me—in those days, James?'
'Indeed, yes, sir; why, she was for ever talking about her uncles.'
'Ah! but which did she prefer?'
'Which uncle, sir?'
'Yes. It was her Uncle John, was it not, James?'
'Mr. Jack, sir? Well, she was certainly remarkably attached to him, but then so she was to you, sir, and she seemed able to do anything she liked with you, sir, and it's not many people that could be said of.'