“You are certainly making the old place look up!” he said, as they passed out upon the terrace. He had noted casually when he rode up the lane half an hour before that a horse was tied near Ware's office; a man now issued from the building and swung himself into the saddle. Norton turned abruptly to Betty. “What's that fellow doing here?” he asked.
“I suppose he comes to see Tom,” said Betty.
“Is he here often?”
“Every day or so.” Betty's tone was indifferent. For reasons which had seemed good and sufficient she had never discussed Captain Murrell with Norton.
“Every day or so?” repeated Norton. “But you don't see him, Betty?”
“No, of course I don't.”
“Tom has no business allowing that fellow around; if he don't know this some one ought to tell him!” Norton was working himself up into a fine rage.
“He doesn't bother me, Charley, if that's what you're thinking of. Let's talk of something else.”
“He'd better not, or I'll make it a quarrel with him.”
“Oh, you mustn't think of that, Charley, indeed you mustn't!” cried Betty in some alarm, for young Mr. Norton was both impulsive and hot-headed.