The fact is he had dreamed last night of Hetty Layard's bright face and wonderful golden hair, and he was getting tired of Richmond and--the house.
It would be very pleasant to go down to Welford, knock at the door, and find Hetty alone. Her brother would be at the gasworks. Philip Ray was in some public office or other, and could not come to make that tow-path horrible with his presence at that hour of the day. He should be able to reach Crawford's House at about eleven, and get away at about one or two. Thus he would run no risks, and he should see again the prettiest girl he had now in his memory.
CHAPTER XXII.
[WILLIAM CRAWFORD'S NIGHTMARE.]
"Hetty," said Alfred Layard to his sister at breakfast that same morning, "you know I am not a discontented man."
"Indeed, I know that very well, Alfred. See how you put up with me!"
"Hetty," said he severely, "in this house jokes are my prerogative."
"I am not joking in the least, Alfred. I know I am not anything like as good as I ought to be to you. But I'll try to be better in future, Alfred. Indeed I will!"
Her tone was full of sorrow.
"Hetty," said he sternly, "in this house pathos is my prerogative also. Mind what you're about. If you make me laugh or yourself cry you will oblige me to do something I should be extremely loath to do."