CHAPTER XIII.
It is probable that Mrs.Da Souza, excellent wife and mother though she had proved herself to be, had never admired her husband more than when, followed by the malevolent glances of Miss Montressor and her friend, she, with her daughter and Da Souza, re-entered the gates of the Lodge.
The young ladies had announced their intention of sitting in the fly until they were allowed speech with their late host; to which he had replied that they were welcome to sit there until doomsday so long as they remained outside his gates.

Mr.Da Souza lingered for a moment behind and laid his finger upon his nose.
"It ain't no use, my dears," he whispered confidentially.

"He's fairly got the hump.

Between you and me he'd give a bit not to have us, but me and him being old friends--you see, we know a bit about one another." "Oh, that's it, is it ?" Miss Montressor remarked, with a toss of her head.

"Well, you and your wife and your little chit of a daughter are welcome to him so far as we are concerned, aren't they, Flossie ?" "Well, I should say so," agreed the young lady, who rather affected Americanisms.
Da Souza stroked his little imperial, and winked solemnly.
"You are young ladies of spirit," he declared.