Page:Joan, the curate.djvu/139

Rh pulled on. She had exchanged the smart tabby gown of the morning for a homelier dress, over which her long white apron hung. Her pretty brown hair, without any cap, was rolled high above her white brow. Her face was pale and anxious, as she came quickly in and thrust one hand through her father's arm.

"Let me answer him, father," said she in a low voice.

The general drew himself up. "Well, madam, and what have you to say?" said he, unconsciously softening his tone, as no man could help doing when addressing a creature so fair.

"It was I, sir, who begged my father to give up his hunting and to come to Rede Hall with me; and if you have any fault to find with that action, 'tis I should bear the blame of it."

"And pray, mistress, what need had you to go to the farm in such a monstrous hurry?"

"That, sir, frankly I would rather not tell."

"Ho, ho, 'tis told then! 'Twas without doubt to put these rascals on their guard, and to enable them to get away ere we came up!"

Joan made no answer.

"You can't deny it, madam! Remember, we have already had proof of your sympathy