“I can certainly not afford to employ mine in that manner for even a fraction of a day,” rejoined the lawyer, always acuter resentful of the suggestion that he had a disengaged moment; “but meanwhile”
“Father,” Bessy interposed, with an eagerly flushing cheek, “don’t you see that the only thing for us to do is to go over the mills now—at once—with Mr. Amherst?”
Mr. Langhope stared: he was always adventurously ready to unmake plans, but it fiustered him to be called on to remake them. “Eh—what? Now—at once? But Gaines was to have gone with us, and how on earth are we to get at him? He telephoned me that, as the visit was given up, he should ride out to his farm.”
“Oh, never mind—or, at least, all the better!” his daughter urged. “We can see the mills just as well without him; and we shall get on so much more quickly.”
“Well—well—what do you say, Tredegar?” murmured Mr. Langhope, allured by her last argument; and Bessy, clasping her hands, summed up enthusiastically: “And I shall understand so much better without a lot of people trying to explain to me at once!”
Her sudden enthusiasm surprised no one, for even Mrs. Ansell, expert as she was in the interpreting of tones, set it down to the natural desire to have done as quickly as might be with Hanaford.
“Mrs. Westmore has left her little girl at home,”
[ 46 ]
