Lavender almost lost her temper. She leaned nearer to him and spoke softly, so that only he could hear.
"I mean to have a talk with you about—this," and she laid her hand upon the newspapers by her side. "Will you come for a drive with me now?"
"Not now," said Melville, "but could you not be put down at Kensington Gardens? I will join you there in an hour."
Lavender looked at him searchingly.
"You will be there, really—without fail?"
"Yes," he said, and moved away, seemingly nonchalant, but in reality cursing the mischance of running up against her there. He had a particular object in being seen in the Park that afternoon; his presence there would be interpreted as indicative of perfect serenity of mind so far as he himself was concerned, and of complete confidence in his brother's innocence of the monstrous charge preferred against him. But Lavender was the last person whom he desired to see, although in their casual meeting there was probably no element of danger.
However, the discussion, if likely to be futile, could not be avoided, so at the expiration of the hour he reached the railings dividing the Gardens from the Park, and found Lavender awaiting him.
"What are you going to do now?" she enquired anxiously.
"I think you are recklessly imprudent," Melville said, ignoring her question. "Why must you of all people choose the Park for your drives just now?"
"Why shouldn't I?" she retorted indignantly.