'Well, Dr. Heriot?'
Mildred sat absolutely on thorns.
'To justify the name I just called you. I cannot help it, Miss Lambert, you so thoroughly deserve it.'
Mildred grew scarlet.
'You ought to have given us a hint. Olive had no idea, neither had I. I thought—we thought, you were talking to the girls.'
'So I was; but I sent them away long ago. My dear Miss Lambert, I believe you are accusing me in your heart of listening,' elevating his eyebrows slightly, as though the idea was absurd. 'Pray dismiss such a notion from your mind. I was in a brown study, and thinking of my favourite Richard, when poor Olive's sobs roused me.'
'Richard your favourite!'
'Yes, is he not yours?' with an inquisitive glance. 'All Dick's faults, glaring as they are, could not hide his real excellence from such observing eyes.'
'He interests me,' she returned, reluctantly; 'but they all do that of course.' Somehow she was loath to confess to a secret predilection in Richard's favour. 'He does not deserve me to speak well of him to-night,' she continued, with her usual candour.
Dr. Heriot looked surprised.