"I don't know," said his sister, peering forth, "I hear Mr. Cranmer, but there is some one else."
Then suddenly a little gush of laughter, high and clear, sailed in on the hot summer air, followed by the distinct notes of a girl's voice.
"Saul! Saul! Get up, you stupid boy!"
Osmond stirred again. He rolled right over in bed, and turned his eager face full to the window.
"Wyn—who is it?" he asked, uneasily.
"I'll go and see if you want to know."
"Stay one minute—I want to hear—who found me by the wayside, as you say, in fragments?"
"A young lady and her maid," was the reply, "She is a Miss Brabourne, I believe, and lives near here. She ran in search of help, and accidentally met a carriage containing two tourists——"
"Brabourne? Isn't that the name of that horrible imp of a child who lives with the Ortons?"
"Yes—I believe it is," said Wyn pausing. "My nephew, the heir to a very large property," she presently added, mimicking a masculine drawl, apparently with much success, for her brother laughed.