await the replenishment of the kettle, Mr. Langhope exchanged his own chair for a place at her side.
“Now what on earth does this mean?” he asked, lighting a cigarette in response to her slight nod of consent.
Mrs. Ansell’s gaze lost itself in the depths of the empty tea-pot.
“A number of things—or any one of them,” she said at length, extending her arm toward the tea-caddy.
“For instance—?” he rejoined, following appreciatively the movements of her long slim hands.
She raised her head and met his eyes. “For instance: it may mean—don’t resent the suggestion—that you and Mr. Tredegar were not quite well—advised in persuading her not to see Mr. Amherst yesterday evening.”
Mr. Langhope uttered an exclamation of surprise.
“But, my dear Maria—in the name of reason … why, after the doctor’s visit—after his coming here last night, at Truscomb’s request, to put the actual facts before her—should she have gone over the whole business again with this interfering young fellow? How, in fact, could she have done so,” he added, after vainly waiting for her reply, “without putting a sort of slight on Truscomb, who is, after all, the only person entitled to speak with authority?”
Mrs. Ansell received his outburst in silence, and the
butler, reappearing with the kettle and fresh toast, gave
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