“Oh, that is sad!” returned Phillis, in a sympathizing voice. “Is that why you keep in-doors so much in the daylight? at least”—correcting herself in haste, for she had spoken without thought—“one never sees you about,” which was a foolish speech, and showed she took notice of his movements; but she could not betray Mr. Drummond.
“Some one else only comes out in the evening,” he rejoined, rather pointedly. “Who told you I kept in-doors in the daylight? Oh, I know!” the frown passing from his face, for he had spoken quickly and in annoyed fashion. “This sounds like a parson’s prating: I know the language of old. By the bye, did you set the clergy on my track?” turning the blue spectacles full on the embarrassed Phillis.
“I?—no indeed!” and then she went on frankly: “Mr. Drummond was at our house, and he told us that he always called on Mrs. Williams’s lodgers.”
“True, Miss Challoner; but how did his reverence know Mrs. Williams had a lodger?”
This was awkward, but Phillis steered her way through the difficulty with her usual dexterity.
“I mentioned to my mother that you were kind enough to see me home, and she repeated the fact to Mr. Drummond.”
“Thank you, Miss Challanor; now I understand. I wonder if your mother would be very shocked if a stranger intruded upon her? but you and I must have some more conversation together, and I do not see how it is to be managed in accordance with what you ladies call les convenances.”
“My mother––” began Phillis, demurely; and then she paused, and looked up at him in astonishment, “What, Mr. Dancy! you purpose to call on my mother, and yet you refused Mr. Drummond’s visit?” for the news of Archie’s defeat had already reached the Friary through Miss Mattie. 219
Mr. Dancy seemed rather nonplussed at this, and then he laughed:
“Ah, you are shrewd, Miss Challoner; there is no deceiving you! I have seen Mr. Drummond pass and repass often enough; and—pardon me, if he be a friend—I thought from the cut of his coat that he was prig, and I have a horror of clerical prigs.”