After parting with George Ryle, Maude Trevlyn, in obedience to the imperious wills of her pupils, turned her steps homewards. Emily was a boisterous, troublesome, disobedient girl; Edith was more gentle and amiable, in looks and disposition resembling her mother; but the example of her sisters was infectious, and spoiled her. There was another daughter, Amelia, older than they were, and at school at Barmester: a very disagreeable girl indeed.
"What was George Ryle saying to you, Maude?" somewhat insolently asked Emily.
"He was talking of Rupert," she incautiously answered, her mind buried in thought.
When they reached the Hold, Mr. Chattaway's horse was being led about by a groom, waiting for its master, who had returned, and was indoors. As they crossed the hall, they met him coming out of the breakfast-room. Octave was with him, talking.
"Cris would have waited, no doubt, papa, had he known you wanted him. He ate his breakfast in a hurry, and went out. I suppose he has gone to Blackstone."
"I particularly wanted him," grumbled Mr. Chattaway, who was never pleasant at the best of times, but would be unbearable if put out. "Cris knew I should want him this morning. First Rupert, and then Cris! Are you all going to turn disobedient?"
He made a halt at the door, putting on his riding-glove. They stood grouped around him--Octave, Maude, and Emily. Edith had run out, and was near the horse.
"I would give a crown-piece to know what Mr. Rupert did with himself last night," he savagely uttered. "John," exalting his voice, "have you any idea where Rupert Trevlyn hid himself all night?"
The locking-out had been known to the household, and afforded considerable gossip. John had taken part in it; joined in its surmises and comments; therefore he was not at fault for a ready answer.
"I don't know nothing certain, sir. It ain't unlikely he went down to the Sheaf o' Corn, and slept there."
"No, no, he did not," involuntarily burst from Maude.
It was an unlucky admission, for its tone was decisive, implying that she knew where he did sleep. She spoke in the moment's impulse. The Shear of Corn was the nearest public-house; notorious for its irregular doings; and Maude felt shocked at the bare suggestion that Rupert would enter such a place.