Tremayne laughed merrily as he rose to depart.
“I shall look to hear if Mrs Trevor be right in her prophecy,” said he.
“We will give you to know that in a month’s time,” answered John Avery rather drily.
In less than a month the news had to be sent, for a stranger arrived. It was Mr Monke. Jennifer was delighted, except for one item. She had announced that the stranger would be fair, and Mr Monke was dark. In this emergency she took refuge, as human nature is apt to do, in exaggerating the point in respect to which she had proved right, and overlooking or slighting that whereon she had proved wrong.
“I might readily blunder in his fairness,” she observed in a self-justifying tone, “seeing it did but lie in the brightness of the flame.”
“Not a doubt thereof,” responded John Avery in a tone which did not tranquillise Jennifer.
When there happened to be no one in the hall but himself and Isoult, Mr Monke came and stood by her as she sat at work.
“Wish me happiness, Mrs Avery,” he said in a low but very satisfied voice.
Isoult Avery was a poor guesser of riddles. She looked up with an air of perplexed simplicity.
“Why, Mr Monke, I do that most heartily at all times,” she answered. “But what mean you?”