“Does Mr Thomas Donnithorne live here?” asked Oliver.
“Iss, sur, he do,” answered the woman; “walk in, sur.”
She ushered him into a small parlour, in which was seated a pretty, little, dark-eyed, rosy-cheeked girl, still in, or only just out of, her teens. Oliver was so taken aback by the unexpected sight that he stood gazing for a moment or two in rather stupid silence.
“Your name is Oliver Trembath, I presume,” said the girl, rising and laying down the piece of needlework with which she was occupied.
“It is,” replied Oliver, in some surprise, as he blundered out an apology for his rudeness.
“Pray sit down, sir,” said the girl; “we have been expecting you for some time, and my uncle told me to act the part of hostess till his return.”
“Your uncle!” exclaimed Oliver, whose self-possession, not to say impudence, returned immediately; “if Thomas Donnithorne be indeed your uncle, then, fair maid, you and I must needs be cousins, the which, I confess, fills me with satisfaction and also with somewhat of surprise, for up to this hour I have been ignorant of my good fortune in being related to so—so—”
“I made a mistake, sir,” said the girl, interrupting a speech which was evidently verging towards impropriety, “in calling Mr Donnithorne uncle to you, who are not aware, it seems, that I am only an adopted niece.”
“Not aware of it! Of course not,” said Oliver, throwing himself into a large armchair, while his fair companion busied herself in spreading the board for a substantial meal. “I could not be aware of much that has occurred in this distant part of the kingdom, seeing that my worthy uncle has vouchsafed to write me only two letters in the course of my life; once, many years ago, to condole with me—in about ten lines, address and signature included—on the death of my dear mother; and once again to tell me he had procured an appointment for me as assistant-surgeon in the mining district of St. Just. He must have been equally uncommunicative to my mother, for she never mentioned your existence. However, since I have now made the agreeable discovery, I trust that you will dispense with ceremony, and allow me at once to call you cousin. By the way, you have not yet told me your name.”
The maiden, who was charmingly unsophisticated, replied that her name was Rose Ellis, and that she had no objection whatever to being called cousin without delay.