He called to the other attendant, who held the torch. Rather! Who could help it?” He towered up over her and smiled down at her in his fatherly way. ‘Here, miss,’ came faintly from somewhere close at hand. The thought of their faces, and particularly of her aunt’s, as it would meet the fact— disconcerted, unfriendly, condemning, pained—occurred to her again and again. Couldn’t fit it inside, but the horse’s blanket lay over it, and, like I said, as long as no one rides him and don’t remove the blanket, I think it’ll stay hid.
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