Mrs. Sladen and Mark Jervis, who were behind, descending the same zigzag path, happened to be immediately above the pair. Sounds ascend, and they were at the moment silent, when suddenly, through the leaves, and the cool evening air, a voice seemed wafted to their feet, which said—
“I have been too sudden. If I were to wait a week or two. Let me talk to your aunt.”
Mrs. Sladen and her companion looked straight at one another, and became guiltily crimson. There was a moment’s pause, ere the man exclaimed—
“There is no use in our pretending we are deaf! We have just heard what was never meant for other ears, and I’m awfully sorry.”
“So am I,” she answered; “sorry in one way, glad in another.”
“I doubt if Mrs. Brande would share your joy,” he retorted with a significant smile.
“Of course we will keep it a dead secret.”
“Of course”—emphatically. “On the whole,” with a short laugh, “I am not sure that it is not safer to write.”
“Is this what you will do?” she inquired playfully.
“I don’t know, but I certainly have had a lesson not to try my fate coming home from a crowded picnic. What a dismal walk those two will have! Can you imagine a more unpleasant tête-à-tête? What can they talk about now?”