"She did not know herself till yesterday," says Bob, briefly, cutting away rather viciously at the beef.
"But who are these sudden friends that have sprung up all at once? What are their names? Where do they live? Tell us all about them, dear boy," says the old woman, gently, seeing that her son is chafed.
"Their names are Sir Thomas and Lady Gerard; they are old friends of the Cravens' father, and they live in ——shire; that is all I know about them."
"A steady-going old couple, I suppose? Will not that be rather dull for a little gay thing like Esther?"
"There is a girl of about her own age, I believe, a ward of Sir Thomas's."
"A ward!—oh!"
"And also a son."
"A son! o—h!"
"Well, why should not there be a son? What harm is there in that?" asks Robert, raising his voice a little in irritation.
"No harm whatever! Much better thing than a daughter! Can push his own way in the world. Not that I know in the least what you are talking about," cries a young, saucy voice, which, with the little sleek, dark head it belongs to, appears uninvited at the door at this juncture. "Oh! I see you are all at dinner, so I'll stay outside till you have finished; it is so horrible to be watched when one is eating, isn't it? I hate it myself." And the head and the voice disappear again as quickly as they came.