As Wynyard hung curtains, and put in screws, he stole swift glances at Miss Susan’s busy helper, noticed her slim elegance, her infectious smile, and lovely face. It was a ridiculous, but absolutely true fact, that to see a really beautiful, charming, and unaffected girl, one must come to Ottinge-in-the-Marsh!
Meanwhile, as he worked in the background, he gathered up many crumbs of conversation, and scraps of family and local news. He learned that Mr. Morven’s great work on The Mithraic Heresy and Its Oriental Origin was nearly complete, that the Manor cook had given notice, and that no one had rented the fishing.
“The Woolcocks have a houseful at Westmere,” so said Miss Susan, “and their staff of servants had recently enjoyed a sensational turning out. Joey Waring and her husband are there, just back from their winter trip.”
“And how is Joe?” inquired Aurea.
“Her hair is twice as fluffy, and she is louder, noisier, and talks ten times more than ever!”
“Now, Susan, you know that is impossible!”
“Yes; Kathleen declares that you can hear her laugh as you pass the park gates.”
“What! a whole mile away! She must have mistaken one of the peacocks for Joey, and however loud she laughs and talks, she never says an unkind word of any one.”
“No, a good, kind little soul! but I wonder Captain Waring can stand her, and her chatter does not drive him crazy.”
“On the contrary, he adores her, and is enormously proud of her flow of animation and conversation. You see, he is so silent himself, Joey is his antithesis; and Joey is worshipped at home, for in a family of large, heavy, silent people, a little gabbling creature is appreciated. Tell me about Kathleen.”