“Fact! I’d hardly got my things unpacked before 56 one of them was riding over to ask me if I had a book about Lady Clara Vere de Vere. It seems he’d heard the poem recited somewhere. I asked him why he wanted it, but he looked so flustered that I let him off. Didn’t have a Tennyson with me, unfortunately, but I gave him my Byron, and I think that will hold him for a while.”
“Charming!” exclaimed Marion. “But what has all that to do with me?”
“He’s the chap that grabbed you in his arms when you were falling from your horse after that little business at Thompson’s the other day.”
Marion blushed, and then laughed.
“But how did you come to hear about that?” she demanded.
He chuckled.
“Oh, I hear everything!” he replied. “My friends say I’ve a nose for news.”
“Well, I shall be very careful what I say to you.”
“Please, no!” he protested. “I’m a safety vault when it comes to secrets.”
She glanced quickly toward the door of Seth’s bedroom, then toward the kitchen, before she spoke.