“Oh, mine was old earthenware stuff—not worth a halfpenny. Evie’s was quite different. You’d have to ask anyone to the wedding who gave you a pendant like that. Uncle Percy and Albert and father and Charles all said it was quite impossible, and when four men agree, what is a girl to do? Evie didn’t want to upset the old thing, so thought a sort of joking letter best, and returned the pendant straight to the shop to save Miss Avery trouble.”
“But Miss Avery said—”
Dolly’s eyes grew round. “It was a perfectly awful letter. Charles said it was the letter of a madman. In the end she had the pendant back again from the shop and threw it into the duckpond.”
“Did she give any reasons?”
“We think she meant to be invited to Oniton, and so climb into society.”
“She’s rather old for that,” said Margaret pensively. “May not she have given the present to Evie in remembrance of her mother?”
“That’s a notion. Give every one their due, eh? Well, I suppose I ought to be toddling. Come along, Mr. Muff—you want a new coat, but I don’t know who’ll give it you, I’m sure;” and addressing her apparel with mournful humour, Dolly moved from the room.
Margaret followed her to ask whether Henry knew about Miss Avery’s rudeness.
“Oh yes.”
“I wonder, then, why he let me ask her to look after the house.”