"How do you do, Mr. Smith?" says Queen T., very graciously—but she does not call him "Howard" as she calls Dr. Sutherland "Angus."
"Well, uncle," says he, brightly, when he has shaken hands all round, "what is the meaning of it all? Are you starting for Iceland in a hurry? I have brought a rifle as well as my breechloader. But perhaps I had better wait to be invited?"
This young man with the clear, pale complexion, and the dark hair, and dark grey eyes, had good looks and a pleasant smile in his favour; he was accustomed to be made welcome; he was at ease with himself. He was not embarrassed that his uncle did not immediately answer; he merely turned and called out to the man who had got his luggage. And when we had got him into the waggonette, and were driving off, what must he needs talk about but the absconding of Mr. Frederick Smethurst, whom he knew to be the uncle of a young lady he had once met at our house.
"Catch him?" said he with a laugh. "They'll never catch him."
His uncle said nothing at all.
When we reached Castle Osprey, the Laird said in the hall, when he had satisfied himself that there was no one within hearing—
"Howard, I wish to have a few meenutes' talk with ye; and perhaps our good friends here will come into the room too——"
We followed him into the dining-room; and shut the door.
"—just to see whether there is anything unreasonable in what I have got to say to ye."
The young man looked rather alarmed; there was an unusual coldness and austerity in the elder man's voice.