I feared they might wait.

What's the matter, Rachel?
You've been making your eyes red." "The matter! There's nothing the matter with me, Mr.Lionel," was Rachel's reply, her tone betraying a touch of annoyance.

And she turned and walked swiftly along the terrace, beyond reach of the glare of the gas-lamp.
Up stole a man at this moment, who must have been hidden amid the pillars of the portico, watching the transient meeting, watching for an opportunity to speak.

It was Roy, the bailiff; and he accosted the gentleman with the same complaint, touching the ill-doings of the Dawsons and the village in general, that had previously been carried to Mr.Verner by Frederick Massingbird.
"I was told to wait and take my orders from you, sir," he wound up with.
"The master don't like to be troubled, and he wouldn't give none." "Neither shall I give any," was the answer, "until I know more about it." "They ought to be got out to-night, Mr.Lionel!" exclaimed the man, striking his hand fiercely against the air.

"They sow all manner of incendiarisms in the place, with their bad example." "Roy," said Lionel Verner, in a quiet tone, "I have not, as you know, interfered actively in the management of things.