“Now, Annabel! You know that Cecil North loves no one but you.”
“How can you be so wise about his love-affairs?”
“No great wisdom is needed to see what he cannot hide.”
“Was he here yesterday?”
“He was here last night. He called to tell us he was going to Westover on some business for his father. I suppose he wanted you to know.”
“But you never thought of telling me. How selfish girls in love are! They cannot think a thought beyond their own lover. I declare I was going without giving you my news,–the Duchess has a large dinner party on the first of March. The Tory ladies will wait in her rooms the reading of this famous Reform Bill that Lord John Russell is concocting, and there will be a great crowd. Kate, if I was you, I would wear your court dress. It is very unlikely that the Queen will receive at all this season.”
“Perhaps we shall not be invited to the dinner.”
“You certainly will be invited. I heard the list read, and as your name begins with ‘A’ it was almost the first. If Mr. Atheling does come to lunch, give him my respects and describe my pelisse to him.”
She went away with this mocking message, and was driven first to a famous jeweller’s, where she bought a sapphire band sufficiently like the one Lord Exham had lost to pass for it, if the view was cursory and at a distance. Kate’s confidence had made one course exceedingly plain to Annabel. She said to herself as she drove through the city streets, “My best plan is evidently to arouse Squire Atheling’s suspicions. I will let him see the ring on my hand. I will lead him to think Piers gave it to me. He will of course make inquiries, and I wonder what Mrs. Atheling and Kate will say. It is a pretty piece of confusion–and, if the matter goes too far, I reserve the power to play the good fairy and put all right. This is a complication I shall enjoy thoroughly, and I am sure, with nothing on earth but Reform and Revolution in my ears, I deserve some little private amusement. All I have to do is to be constantly ready for opportunities.”
Opportunities, however, with Squire Atheling, were few and far between. It was not until the day before the first of March she found one. On that afternoon she called at the Athelings, and found Mrs. and Miss Atheling out. The Squire was walking from the fire-place to the window, and from the window to the fire-place, and grumbling at their absence. Miss Vyner’s entrance diverted him for a few minutes; and as they were talking a servant brought in a small package. The Squire took it up, and laid it down, and then took it up again, and was evidently either anxious or curious concerning its contents.