'Who would have thought you so cunning? Two country misses--two little nuns
from the cloisters of Bartram! Well, I suppose I must answer. It is vain
trying to hide anything from you; but how on earth did you find it out?'
'We'll tell you that presently, but you shall first tell us who she is,' I
persisted.
'Well, that I will, of course, without compulsion. She is Lady Mary
Carysbroke,' said Lady Knollys.
'A relation of Mr. Carysbroke's,' I asserted.
'Yes, a relation; but who told you he was Mr. Carysbroke?' asked Cousin
Monica.
'Milly told me, when we saw him in the Windmill Wood.'
'And who told you, Milly?'
'It was L'Amour,' answered Milly, with her blue eyes very wide open.
'What does the child mean? L'Amour! You don't mean _love_?' exclaimed Lady
Knollys, puzzled in her turn.
'I mean old Wyat; _she_ told me and the Governor.'
'You're _not_ to say that,' I interposed.
'You mean your father?' suggested Lady Knollys.
'Well, yes; father told her, and so I knew him.'
'What could he mean?' exclaimed Lady Knollys, laughing, as it were, in
soliloquy; 'and I did not mention his name, I recollect now.
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