Then the little lady began to ask questions about her new step-mother-in-law.
"You know, Cora, that I could not ask you yesterday while Sylvan was with us. He is in your full confidence, no doubt, and I have perfect faith in him; but for all that we cannot speak freely on all subjects before a third person, however near and dear. At least I could not ask searching questions about Mr. Rockharrt's marriage, before Sylvan. Such a strange marriage, with such a disparity in years between a man of Mr. Rockharrt's venerable age and Mrs. Stillwater's blooming youth! I saw her once by chance. She looked a perfect Hebe of radiant health and beauty."
Cora Rothsay smiled. She might have told this little lady that there was not much more difference between the ages of Rose Stillwater at thirty-seven and Aaron Rockharrt at seventy-seven than there was between Violet Wood at seventeen and Fabian Rockharrt at fifty-two. But as the young wife did not see this fact, Cora refrained from showing it to her.
Then Violet wanted to know what Cora herself thought of the marriage.
Cora said she thought it concerned only the parties in question, and only time could tell how it would turn out.
In such confidential talk passed the long summer day.
In the cool of the evening Mr. Fabian came home to dinner.
He joined his wife in trying to persuade Cora to remain with them yet another day; but Cora explained that there were many reasons for her return to Rockhold.
Finding her obdurate, Mr. Fabian ordered Mrs. Rothsay's landau to be at the door at a certain hour.
And as soon as dinner was over and Cora had put on her bonnet and taken leave of Violet, with a promise to return within a few days, Mr. Fabian placed her in the Carriage, took his seat beside her, and drove down the wooded hill to the river road below.