"My dear, good Mrs. Hicks, don't be angry; it's not my idea, I do assure you; only one that would undoubtedly present itself to this rich old man! I propose to shelter Nancy under my own wing. I shall be going home next spring, and as soon as she has recovered from her grief, I shall take her about, and give her a good time—and——"
"And marry her off," broke in Mrs. Hicks, with challenging insolence. "Match-making with you is just a play; all excitement and amusement. However, you can't marry Nancy, for you know as well as I do, she has a husband already!"
"Nothing of the sort," rejoined the other, "any claim that Captain Mayne would put forward could easily be refuted. He won't do it though, and I suppose if he chose, he could sue Nancy for desertion."
Argument waxed fast and furious, and Mrs. Ffinch had much the best of the conflict. She kept her temper admirably, whilst her opponent was in a red-hot towering rage. On such occasions she completely cast all fear, and awe of the "Dictator," to the winds, and told her various, plain, and unpleasant truths. On the present occasion, she said:
"You know very well, that if you had been here and had a hand in this marriage of Nancy's, you would have made her stick to it through thick and thin—but as it was all got up in a hurry, and, so to speak, behind your back, you'll do all you can to smash it!"
Mrs. Ffinch's reply was an icy and dignified silence. The proper and suitable punishment for her companion would have been to open the door of the car, request her to descend, and allow her to walk the remainder of the distance down to Coimbatore.
For a long time, neither matron spoke; and the motor skimmed rapidly down the winding road, passing many familiar land-marks. The cold fit was now on Mrs. Hicks. She had let herself go, and said too much, and there wasn't the smallest doubt that her companion—from what she knew of her—would hold a truce for the present, but in some way or another "have it in for her" on a future occasion!
As they sped along the flat plains, in the direction of Coimbatore, Mrs. Ffinch broke the silence.
"I propose to take Nancy back with me this evening; her room is ready, and most of her mourning has been finished, so, dear Mrs. Hicks, on our return journey, I'm sure you won't mind sitting in front with the chauffeur, and I will take the poor child in beside me."
In her own opinion she was carrying out the part of a benevolent friend—she was saving Nancy from a loveless union, and the misery of being dragged round the world, by a man who did not want her.