"Oh, I thought you were sure to have heard! And, after all, it might be a mistake. Some have said that he was engaged all the time—elsewhere!" significantly. "Pray do not be annoyed, Miss Trevelyan. I sincerely hope it may be untrue. No one could wish such a connection for Sir Cyril! So very objectionable! I merely allude to what everybody remarked—the way he haunted that house for weeks. But probably, poor youth, he became aware of his danger, and wisely fled from it. If only it has not been an exchange for something worse!"
Had Miss Atherstone an object in saying all this? Was she seeking to discover the state of Jean's feelings towards Cyril? Had she been sent by Miss Devereux? Was she stupid or was she wicked? Jean put these questions silently, in girlish indignation, while saying aloud, "I think 'everybody' would be better occupied in attending to their own concerns. One gets out of patience with Dutton gossip."
It was Miss Atherstone's turn to be angry, and the ears of corn oscillated as if stirred by a gale.
"I am not accustomed, I must say, to having a friendly interest in others' welfare called by so harsh a name," she said, caressing again her untidy finger-tips.
"But, after all, it is of no consequence! One must submit, in this world, to be misunderstood! It is one of the trials of life! . . . As you imply, Sir Cyril's movements do not concern us! He is quite at liberty to get himself engaged out there, if he chooses—to a squatter's daughter! Or a bushman's! It really concerns nobody—except his poor excellent worthy aunt! And I am sure Miss Devereux had had little enough of comfort in her nephew! Such devotion to him—and such a poor return! Such ingratitude! She has had a succession of troubles. If she were not so truly good as she is, she must have sunk beneath them . . . And this will be only one trial more. One burden added! She will be resigned. Dear Miss Devereux is always so sweetly resigned. As I tell her, it is quite a lesson . . . But to have to make way for, such a successor! A mere Colonial young lady! Oh, I believe the family is not bad. Not bushrangers!—" with a solemn attempt at a joke.
"And the girl herself is pretty. In the style of Miss Lucas—small, and dark eyes! Still—a Colonial family! One does not expect that, for Sir Cyril Devereux! And his beloved aunt allowed no choice—no opinion—after her years of devotion to him!"
Jean's colour did not deepen further; nor did it fade too fast.
"How soon are they going to be married?" she asked.
"I am not sure that the date is settled," said Miss Atherstone, her eyes running over Jean again. "In fact, the engagement is still something of a secret."
"A Dutton secret, I suppose!"