“Probably I should, my lord, only Sir Norman, unfortunately, does not know himself.”
The earl's countenance looked so utterly blank at this announcement, that Ormiston was forced to throw in a word of explanation.
“I mean to say, my lord, that he has fallen in love with her; and, judging from appearances, I should say his flame is not altogether hopeless, although they have met to-night for the first time.”
“A rapid passion. Where have you left her, Ormiston?”
“In her own house, my lord,” Ormiston replied, smiling quietly to himself.
“Where is that?”
“About a dozen yards from where I stood when you called me.”
“Who are her family?” continued the earl, who seemed possessed of a devouring curiosity.
“She has none that I know of. I imagine Mistress Leoline is an orphan. I know there was not a living soul but ourselves in the house I brought her to.”
“And you left her there alone?” exclaimed the earl, half starting up, as if about to order the boatman to row back to the landing.