“I know! I can guess one thing at least. She told you we were rejuiced.”
“I—I—” he began to stammer again, but the corners of his mouth twitched, and the next moment they were laughing together in hearty, youthful enjoyment.
“Too bad of you! Why are you so abnormally sharp? Have pity on my embarrassment,” he pleaded, while Dreda shook her yellow mane in derision.
“You are not embarrassed a bit! You laughed before I did! It’s easy to guess, because that’s Maud’s favourite subject at present. She overheard the servants talking, and took a fancy to the word, and now she drags it in on every possible occasion. What else did she say? Anything about me?”
“Er—er—”
“She did! I know she did. Don’t try to deny it. Was it—nice?”
“Er—” stammered Guy Seton once more, whereupon Dreda drew herself up with sudden dignity.
“You shouldn’t have allowed it! She is only a child; you should not have allowed her to talk personalities—”
“But I tried to stop her—I did, indeed! I was most uncomfortable. I tried to change the conversation, but it was no good. Please don’t scold me, I’ve suffered enough as it is!”
“How have you suffered?” Dreda’s eyes widened eagerly. Now she was on the track of the mystery, and determined to push her inquiries until all was made plain. “Who made you suffer?”