Lady Annabel showed me at once that neither did she believe anything so improbable.
“From what I have heard of Mrs. Harter, Sir Miles, I should think that music is the last thing to occupy her mind. I think I told you that a good deal is known about her, though it reached me only through entirely unofficial channels. But Captain Patch is a very nice young fellow indeed, and one can’t help feeling it’s a pity that he should be victimized.”
“Perhaps he isn’t victimized. He may admire her.”
“So much the worse,” said Lady Annabel in her lowest, gentlest and most inexorable voice. “Surely there are plenty of nice, innocent girls to choose from without running after a married woman. The Rector’s position makes it difficult for me to speak about these things, as you know. But, if you remember, I said some time ago that it was a most unwise proceeding to invite a person like Mrs. Harter to take part in your theatricals.”
“She has, up to the present, come to no rehearsals, so the theatricals can hardly be held responsible for bringing them together.”
Lady Annabel bent her head. I knew, however, and she meant me to know, that this was mere courtesy on her part—not acquiescence.
She was not the only person to talk about Mrs. Harter and Captain Patch, of course. It is never only one person who talks; these things get into the air, no one knows how.
Mrs. Kendal spoke to Claire, and Claire reported what she had said to me.
“I have seen them myself, walking about the town,” said Mumma impressively. “They actually went into the butcher’s together. Of course, I suppose she does her own marketing, living in rooms. And I distinctly saw them go into the butcher’s together.”
Claire said that it seemed an unromantic sort of trysting place.