'Hollo, Morville! how are you? So you have great doings to-night, I hear!' and he had only just forced himself from him, when he was again accosted, this time in a hasty, embarrassed manner,-'I beg your pardon, sir, but the ties of relationship--'
He drew himself up as if he was on parade, faced round, and replied with an emphatic 'Sir!' as he behold a thin, foreign-looking man, in a somewhat flashy style of dress, who, bowing low, repeated breathlessly,-'I beg your pardon--Sir Guy Morville, I believe!'
'Captain Morville, sir!'
'I beg your pardon--I mistook. A thousand pardons,' and he retreated; while Philip, after a moment's wonder, pursued his walk.
The Hollywell party entered Broadstone in a very different temper, and greatly did they enjoy the concert, both for themselves and for each other. In the midst of it, while Amy was intent on the Italian words of a song, Guy touched her hand, and pointed to a line in the programme-Solo on the violin.... MR. S. B. DIXON.
She looked up in his face with an expression full of inquiry; but it was no time for speaking, and she only saw how the colour mantled on his cheek when the violinist appeared, and how he looked down the whole time of the performance, only now and then venturing a furtive though earnest glance.
He did not say anything till they were seated in the carriage, and then astonished Mrs. Edmonstone by exclaiming-'It must be my uncle!--I am sure it must. I'll ride to Broadstone the first thing to-morrow, and find him out.'
'Your uncle!' exclaimed Mrs. Edmonstone. 'I never thought of that.'
S. B. Dixon,' said Guy. 'I know his name is Sebastian. It cannot be any one else. You know he went to America. How curious it is! I suppose there is no fear of his being gone before I can come in to-morrow.'
'I should think not. Those musical people keep late hours.'
'I would go before breakfast. Perhaps it would be best to go to old Redford, he will know all about him; or to the music-shop. I am so glad! It is the very thing I always wished.'
'Did you?' said Mrs. Edmonstone to herself. 'I can't say every one would be of your mind; but I can't help liking you the better for it. I wish the man had kept further off. I wish Mr. Edmonstone was at home. I hope no harm will come of it. I wonder what I ought to do. Shall I caution him? No; I don't think I can spoil his happiness--and perhaps the man may be improved. He is his nearest relation, and I have no right to interfere. His own good sense will protect him--but I wish Mr. Edmonstone was at home.'