Another source of annoyance was the manner in which the red-faced gentleman persisted in sticking to us, like a limpet--as if he were a member of the party. Jane and Ellen kept themselves glued together. On Ellen's right was Daniel Dyer, and on Jane's left was the red-faced gentleman. This was a condition of affairs of which my aunt strongly disapproved. She remonstrated with the stranger, but without the least effect. I tried my hand on him, and failed. He was the best-tempered and thickest-skinned individual I ever remember to have met.
"It's this way," I explained--he needed a deal of explanation. "This lady has brought these people for a little pleasure excursion to town, for the day only; and, as these young ladies are in her sole charge, she feels herself responsible for them. So would you just mind leaving us?"
It seemed that he did mind; though he showed no signs of having his feelings hurt by the suggestion, as some persons might have done.
"Don't you worry, governor; I'll help her look after 'em. I've looked after a few people in my time, so the young lady can trust me--can't you, miss?"
Jane giggled. My impression is that my aunt felt like shaking her. But just then I made a discovery.
"Hallo! Where's the youngster?"
My aunt twirled herself round.
"Stephen! Goodness! where has that boy gone to?"
Jane looked through the glass which ran all along one side of the corridor.
"Why, miss, there's Stephen Treen over in that crowd there."