’I have been making a request,’ she answered.
She was reluctant, yet unwilling to disoblige.
Oliver signed to her to take a place. She obeyed. She was uncomfortable. There was an indefinable something in the way in which the old yeoman looked at and addressed her, something equally indefinable in her father’s manner, that combined to disturb her.
Mrs. Veale came in on some excuse, to ask her master a question, with her white eyelashes quivering. She cast a sidelong glance at Honor full of malice, as she entered. When she left the room she did not shut the door, and the girl saw her white face and flickering eyes turned towards her, watching her out of the darkness of the passage. She was for a moment spellbound, but recovered herself when Taverner Longford, with an impatient exclamation, slammed the door.
’I shall be glad to be rid of the old prying cat,’ he said.
’Is Mrs. Veale going to leave you?’ asked Honor. Then she caught her father and Langford exchange glances, and her brow became hot—she hardly knew wherefore.
’I am thinking of a change,’ said the yeoman.
’I hope you are going to have as good a housekeeper,’ said Honor; ’a better you cannot have.’
’Oh!’ he laughed, ’a better, certainly, and—what is quite as certain—a prettier one. If I had not been sure of that, I would not have——’ He checked himself and nodded to the carrier, who laughed.
Honor looked from one to the other inquiringly, then asked somewhat sternly, ’You would not have—what, Mr. Langford?’
’What is the connection?’ asked the girl.
’More things are connected than sleeve-links,’ answered Langford. ’I would not have let your father have the horse if you were thriftless at home. I would not take Charles into service, unless I thought to find in him some of the qualities of the sister.’
’Put my qualities, such as they are, on one side,’ said Honor roughly.
’That,’ said Langford, looking across at Luxmore, ’that is not to be thought of.’
Then the carrier laughed nervously, and with a side glance at his daughter.
Honor coloured. She was offended, but unable to say at what. She put her hand on her little brother’s head and stroked it nervously.
Then the yeoman began to talk to the carrier about his estate, the quality of the land, his cows and horses, his woods, his pastures, the money he was able to put away every year, and contrasted his style of farming with that of the Nanspians at Chimsworthy. As he spoke he fixed his eyes on Honor, to see if his wealth impressed her. But her face expressed no concern. It was clouded; she was thinking, not listening.