“Yes, at one of those. How are you all, Johnny? How is Mrs. Todhetley?”
“Oh, she’s first-rate. Got no neuralgia just now.”
“Is she at Worcester?”
“No; at Dyke Manor. She would not come. The Squire drove us in yesterday. We are at the Star.”
“Ah! yes,” she said, her eyes taking a dreamy, far-off look. “I remember staying at the Star myself one race-week. Papa brought me. It was the year I left school. Have you heard or seen anything of my brothers lately, Johnny Ludlow?”
“Not since we were last staying at Crabb Cot. We went to Timberdale Church one day and heard your brother Charles preach; and we dined once with Robert at the Court, and he and his wife came once to dine with us. But—have you not seen your brother James here?”
“No—and I would rather not see him. He would be sure to ask me painful questions.”
“But he is always about the streets here, seeing after his patients, Lucy. I wonder you have not met him.”
“We only came down last Saturday: and I go out as little as I can,” she said; a hesitation in her tone and manner that struck me. “I did think I saw James’s carriage before me just now as I came up the Tything. It turned into Britannia Square.”
“I dare say. We met it yesterday in Sidbury as we drove in.”