"Well," Tom answered a trifle sharply, "my name is Maitland, and for the matter of that, my girl, you need not judge me by my clothes. I know Sir Hervey, and----"
He did not finish. To his indignation, to the clergyman's astonishment, the girl went into a fit of laughter; laughing till she cried, and drying her eyes only that she might laugh again. Sir Tom stared and fumed and swore; while the vicar looked from one to the other, and asked himself--not for the first time--whether they were acting together, or the man was as innocent as he appeared to be.
One thing he could make clear, and he hastened to do it. "I don't know why you laugh, child," he said patiently. "At the same time, the gentleman is certainly wrong in the fact. Sir Hervey Coke is married, for I had it from the steward some days ago, and I am to go with the tenants to the Hall to see her ladyship."
Tom stared. "Sir Hervey Coke married!" he cried in amazement, and forgot the girl's rudeness. "Since I saw him? Married? Impossible! Whom do you say he has married?"
The vicar coughed. "Well, 'tis odd, sir, but it's a lady of the same name--as yourself."
"Maitland?"
"Yes, sir! A Miss Maitland, a sister of Sir Thomas Maitland, of Cuckfield."
Sir Tom's eyes grew wide. "Good Lord!" he cried; "Sophia!"
"A relation, sir? Do I understand you that she's of your family?"
"My sister, sir; my sister."