"Never. Casual, picked up in the streets, I gather."
"And his sister with him?" said the man, urgently, in a low tone. "See here, there's money in this—what can you tell me about 'em?"
Felix was aboard of the barge, and looked up from the deck with a smile. "Money from a right-to-worker?" he mocked. "Plank it down, and I'll invent sisters for you as fast as you like."
"Thanks," said the man, with a change of tone. "I got out of you what I want without the money. She wasn't here when they got to Basingstoke. That's just what I thought. But where in thunder is she?"
"Oh, go to blazes—you're drunk," said Felix.
He turned on his heel and entered his dark sleeping-hole, trembling in every limb.
CHAPTER IX
THE SQUIRE DEFIES CONVENTIONS
Spring is here, with the wind in her hair
And the violets under her feet.
All the forests have found her fair,
Lovers have found her sweet.
Spring's a girl in a lovely gown,
Little more than a child.
—ALICE HERBERT.
A fortnight after her arrival at the Cottage Hospital Veronica was wholly convalescent. The air, the first-rate nursing, the sense of peace and well-being which she experienced, all helped, and came to the aid of a naturally fine constitution. The color she had lost returned to her pale face, her eyes were clear and luminous.