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Lorimer took a covert glance backward over his
shoulder towards the lattice window, and saw that the white figure at
the spinning-wheel had disappeared.
"My dear Mr. Gueldmar," he then said with polite fervor, "I assure you I
think the Bosekop folk by no means deserve to sharpen your sword on the
grindstone, or to enjoy the remains of your dinner! Myself, I despise
them! My friend here, Sir Philip Errington, despises them--don't you,
Phil?"
Errington nodded demurely.
"What my friend said just now is perfectly true," continued Lorimer. "We
desire the honor of your acquaintance,--it will charm and delight us
above all things!"
And his face beamed with a candid, winning, boyish smile, which was very
captivating in its own way, and which certainly had its effect on the
old _bonde_, for his tone softened, though he said gravely--
"My acquaintance, young men, is never sought by any. Those who are wise,
keep away from me. I love not strangers, it is best you should know it.


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