“Where is Mr. Garnet?” he asked as she entered.
“Mr. Garnet will not be down to dinner,” said Pet, inwardly determining to keep that gentleman as long imprisoned as she could.
The judge, without troubling himself to inquire further, took his seat, and proceeded to administer condign punishment to the good things spread before him, assisted by Pet, whose appetite was by no means impaired by the pleasant scene she had just passed through, and whose stony conscience was not in the least troubled with remorse for having locked a young gentleman up without his dinner.
About ten minutes after, the judge started to leave the room, and Pet, guessing where he was going, called to him:
“Papa!”
“Well,” said the judge, pausing, and turning round.
“Where are you going?”
“To the library, Miss Lawless,” said the judge, with dignity.
“Well, look here, papa, there’s a prisoner of war in there.”
“What, Miss Lawless?” said the judge, knitting his brows in perplexity.