Their first theory, however, which had to do with a certain presence at Cross Saddle Hall, the seat of the Dalgries, their nearest neighbors, was altogether wrong; as they very promptly discovered.
For before Sir Caryll had been in the house an hour Cecile came unexpectedly upon him and Nina Darling, with heads close together, ensconced in a secluded corner of the orangery.
Carleigh, blushing like a school-girl, had sprung up with a start.
"Fancy Mrs. Darling being here!" he cried, in a tone by no means free from embarrassment. "We were at Bellingdown, you know, for the week-end. But I'd no notion she was coming to you. It was a surprise."
The poor boy was wofully transparent. It was all Cecile Archdeacon could do to keep her face straight; especially when behind his back Nina deliberately winked at her.
Of course she lost no time in telling Julian. It was far too good to keep.
"By gad!" he cried, laughing. "Nina's never out of character, is she? Think of her catching poor Carleigh on the rebound! No man's immune from her. Even I—"
"Don't flatter yourself," his wife cut in. "You're far too pursy. Nina likes them with a waist."
"Really!" he exclaimed, swallowing his bruised conceit. "I didn't know. I've never noticed her preferences. At that I think you're wrong, Cis. It's just the chap that happens to be 'round."
"It's just the chap that happens not to be round," returned his wife. But Julian, as good, kindly and stupid as he was corpulent, never saw it in the least.