They strolled along in silence for a little while, and Linda had a sudden desire to be back with her other friends. This Englishman was not so fascinating upon further acquaintance, and she longed for Dot. If she had a chance to talk to her about the telegram, she would feel better. Dot always had such wonderful suggestions.
Lord Dudley, however, had one to offer.
“Why don’t you try to buy the woman off, Miss Carlton?” he asked.
“What for?” she demanded, angrily.
“Oh, say for about twenty-five thousand—maybe less, if she’d take it. It would save you a lot of time and worry, and maybe money in the end. You may be telling the truth, but how’s a judge to know that, if the other people have a witness?”
Linda drew herself up proudly. She was actually beginning to dislike the man.
“I wouldn’t think of it!” she exclaimed. “That would be the same as admitting that I was guilty. No, thank you—I’d rather fight.”
Looking ahead of her, she suddenly spied Ralph sitting alone on a bench beside the lake. He was probably furious with her for going off with this stranger, and all of a sudden she saw his point of view. Who was Lord Dudley anyhow, to step in between them like this?
“I’ll race you to that bench!” she challenged, abruptly. “Ralph looks lonely.”
“I’m too old to run,” he replied, smiling. “But you go along. I really must be getting back to the Inn. We’re leaving soon—” He hesitated, and held out his hand. “It’s good-by, now, Miss Carlton. I’m sailing for England early next week. I don’t suppose I’ll see you again till you come there on one of your flights.”