Clarice turned first red and then white. The terrible Sir William coming to the Palatine—and to-night! It was enough to flutter any girl’s nerves. She turned to Mr Etheridge and put the message into his hands. ‘Read it,’ was all she could say.
He had just finished reading his own message, which seemed to be a very brief one.
‘Well, what do you think?’ she asked nervously, as he returned the paper to her with a smile.
‘I think it’s about the wisest thing Sir William could do. He ought to come and see with his own eyes, instead of sending other people. Of course, the fact of his summoning Mr Archie to London, and then declining to see him, can only be put down to the score of eccentricity—though I have no doubt the boy has enjoyed his little trip to town.’
Clarice looked at him a little reproachfully. As if Archie could enjoy being anywhere where she was not!
‘I must go and tell Mora the news,’ she said. ‘But oh! Mr Etheridge, do you think Sir William will want to see me?’
‘I think it very likely indeed.’
‘I was never so frightened in my life. I wish I could hide myself somewhere till to-morrow.’
‘Pooh, pooh, my dear young lady; Sir William is not an ogre. He is only a man, like the rest of us.’
‘But he is Archie’s papa.’