Dinah had returned then. They had actually chartered that car to convey her from Great Mallowes. He pursed his lips to a whistle. The little girl had been in clover indeed.
"She certainly won't think much of the home crusts after this," he murmured to himself.
He walked Rupert round to the tumble-down stable, and dismounted.
For the next quarter of an hour he was busy over the animal. He thought it a little strange that Dinah did not spy the stable-lamp from the kitchen and come dancing out to greet him. He also wondered why the car lingered so long. It looked as if someone other than the maid had accompanied her, and were staying to tea.
He never took tea after a day's hunting; hot whisky and water and a bath formed his customary programme, and then a tasty supper and bed.
He supposed on this occasion that he would have to go in and show himself, though he was certainly not fit to be seen. Reluctantly he pulled the bedraggled pink coat on again. After all, it did not greatly matter. Hunting was its own excuse. No sportsman ever returned in the apple-pie order in which he started.
Carelessly he sauntered in by way of the back premises, and was instantly struck by the sound of a man's voice, well-bred, with a slightly haughty intonation, speaking in one of the front rooms of the little house.
"Dinah seemed to think that she could not keep it in till to-morrow," it said, with easy assurance. "So I thought I had better come along with her to-night and get it over."
The words reached Bathurst as he arrived in the small square hall, and he stopped dead. "Hullo! Hullo!" he murmured softly to himself.
And then came his wife's voice, a harsh, determined voice, "Do I understand that you wish to marry my daughter?"