When Mr. Craven and I were seated at our respective tables, I
said to him:
"Could you make any excuse to send me to Miss Blake's to-day, sir?"
Mr. Craven looked up in utter amazement. "To Miss Blake's!" he repeated.
"Why do you want to go there?"
"I want to see Miss Elmsdale," I answered, quietly enough, though I felt
the colour rising in my face as I spoke.
"You had better put all that nonsense on one side, Patterson," he
remarked. "What you have to do is to make your way in the world, and you
will not do that so long as your head is running upon pretty girls.
Helena Elmsdale is a good girl; but she would no more be a suitable wife
for you, than you would be a suitable husband for her. Stick to law, my
lad, for the present, and leave love for those who have nothing more
important to think of."
"I did not want to see Miss Elmsdale for the purpose you imply," I said,
smiling at the vehemence of Mr. Craven's advice. "I only wish to ask her
one question."
"What is the question?"
"From whom she learned that I was in residence at River Hall," I
answered, after a moment's hesitation.
"What makes you think she is aware of that fact?" he inquired.
"I received a note from her last night, entreating me to leave the
place, and intimating that some vague peril menaced me if I persisted in
remaining there.
Pages:
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158