"If they did I wouldn't pick them off, now that you have enlightened me," Mrs. Sinclair answered. "I'm not that sort."
"Sir Ross is an enormously rich man," Melville protested, "and is worth keeping; and, in addition, Sir Geoffrey is a very old man, which is another argument in favour of a less drastic policy than the one that you suggest."
"You seem very keen on my becoming Lady Buchanan."
"I am," said Melville. "Candidly, I think you will make a frightful mistake if you break off the engagement, when a little temporising would save the situation."
"Temporising won't go down with Sir Ross," Mrs. Sinclair said shortly; "I know him too well to try that on. It must be 'yes' or 'no' with him. It can't be 'yes,' and as he will want all sorts of explanations if it's 'no,' I shall get out of the difficulty by not being at home to him. If he writes, I will consult you."
Melville was annoyed, for with his aunt feloniously intermarried with Sir Ross Buchanan, her former husband being still alive, he would have been sure of a substantial revenue; he wished he had been a little less emphatic in his explanation of the law of bigamy, and he was vexed with himself for having made any mistake in his game.
"You're not such a clever woman as I take you for," he said, "if you can't manage Sir Ross better than that. Take my advice, and go slow. That's good advice ninety-nine times out of a hundred, and better advice the hundredth."
Mrs. Sinclair shook her head.
"It's no good, Melville," she said gently. "I've done harm enough as it is—wilfully, if you like, as a child, ignorantly as a woman. But I've got a conscience left, and I'm not going to do any more harm deliberately; and I don't intend to play fast and loose with one man on the chance of another man dying. I mean what I say. Now that you have explained what my engagement to Sir Ross Buchanan amounts to, it is 'o double f'; and now, don't let us talk about it any more."
She got up and began to pack up the luncheon basket. Melville got up, too, and busied himself about the boat, rearranging the cushions and getting things ready for their further journey up to Fairbridge. In reality, he was not a little disconcerted by the way his plans with regard to Mrs. Sinclair threatened to be upset, and he was piqued to think that he had not read her character correctly. Conscience was the last complication he had expected to run up against, but he was forced to recognise its existence in this most unlikely quarter. Well! it rendered his visit to Sir Geoffrey all the more necessary; if supplies were not to be forthcoming from the one quarter, they must be doubled from the other.