CHAPTER XLII
ELVERSTON AND ITS PEOPLE
So Milly and I drove through the gabled high street of Feltram next day. We saw my gracious cousin smoking with a man like a groom, at the door of the ‘Plume of Feathers.’ I drew myself back as we passed, and Milly popped her head out of the window.
‘I’m blessed,’ said she, laughing, ‘if he hadn’t his thumb to his nose, and winding up his little finger, the way he does with old Wyat—L’Amour, ye know; and you may be sure he said something funny, for Jim Jolliter was laughin’, with his pipe in his hand.’
‘I wish I had not seen him, Milly. I feel as if it were an ill omen. He always looks so cross; and I dare say he wished us some ill,’ I said.
‘No, no, you don’t know Dudley: if he were angry, he’d say nothing that’s funny; no, he’s not vexed, only s
