Presently he drew up at a wayside inn.
“I like to step into these publics,” said he apologetically; “not that I’m a man as takes nips--but one meets one’s fellows; it is all in the way of business; one hears of bargains. There is more dealing done over a tavern table than in a market-place. I’ll be with you shortly--unless you will join me in a glass inside. Kitty will mind the cob.”
“Thank you; I will await you here, and keep Kitty company.”
“Ah, you will never be popular as was Puddicombe, unless you take your glass!”
Then Pepperill entered the house.
Bramber turned in his seat, and met Kate’s earnest blue eyes. There was question in them.
“Now,” said he, “I know your head is full of notes of interrogation.”
“I do not understand you.”
“Your uncle and others do not like to be questioned. I am a schoolmaster. I delight in answering questions and communicating information. Put to me any queries you like, and as many as you like, and I will do my best to satisfy you.”
“Why do some stars twinkle and others do not?” asked Kate at once. This difficulty had been troubling her mind ever since the night in the boat.