Troy in close
consultation on the gravel walk.
She spoke to the lawyer first.
"They are baiting the horses at the inn," she said. "I want your arm,
Mr. Troy, as far as the village--and, in return, I will take you back
to London with me. I have to ask your advice about one or two little
matters, and this is a good opportunity."
"With the greatest pleasure, Lady Lydiard. I suppose I must say good-by
to Miss Pink?"
"A word of advice to you, Mr. Troy. Take care how you ruffle Miss Pink's
sense of her own importance. Another word for your private ear. Miss
Pink is a fool."
On the lawyer's withdrawal, Lady Lydiard put her arm fondly round
Isabel's waist. "What were you and Mr. Troy so busy in talking about?"
she asked.
"We were talking, my Lady, about tracing the person who stole the
money," Isabel answered, rather sadly. "It seems a far more difficult
matter than I supposed it to be. I try not to lose patience and
hope--but it is a little hard to feel that appearances are against me,
and to wait day after day in vain for the discovery that is to set me
right."
"You are a dear good child," said Lady Lydiard; "and you are more
precious to me than ever. Don't despair, Isabel. With Mr. Troy's means
of inquiring, and with my means of paying, the discovery of the thief
cannot be much longer delayed. If you don't return to me soon, I shall
come back and see you again. Your aunt hates the sight of me--but I
don't care two straws for that," remarked Lady Lydiard, showing the
undignified side of her character once more.
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