"If they have to be told, they had better be told," said Roden, almost angrily.
"Whether friend or not, he knew of—your engagement with my sister."
"Impossible!"
"He told me of it," said Lord Hampstead impetuously, his tongue now at length loosed. "Told me of it! He spoke of it again and again to my extreme disgust. Though the thing had been fixed as Fate, he should not have mentioned it."
"Certainly not."
"But he did nothing but tell me of your happiness, and good luck, and the rest of it. It was impossible to stop him, so that I had to ride away from him. I bade him be silent,—as plainly as I could without mentioning Fanny's name. But it was of no use."
"How did he know it?"
"You told him!"
"I!"
"So he said." This was not strictly the case. Crocker had so introduced the subject as to have avoided the palpable lie of declaring that the tidings had been absolutely given by Roden to himself. But he had not the less falsely intended to convey that impression to Hampstead, and had conveyed it. "He gave me to understand that you were speaking about it continually at your office." Roden turned round and looked at the other man, white with rage—as though he could not allow himself to utter a word. "It was as I tell you. He began it at the Castle, and afterwards continued it whenever he could get near me when hunting."