She decided regretfully, yet with an inner sense of expediency, that she would spend the afternoon in his company. But her husband had other plans.
"You have had a hot walk," he said. "You had better rest this afternoon. I am going to do a little mountaineering; but I mean to be back by tea-time. Perhaps when it is cool you will come for a stroll, unless you have arranged to attend the evening service also."
He glanced at her and saw the indignant colour rise in her face. But she was too proud to protest.
"As you wish," she said coldly.
Conversation during lunch was distinctly laboured. Wingarde's silences were many and oppressive. It was an unspeakable relief to the girl when at length he took himself off. She told herself with a wry smile that he was getting on her nerves. She did not yet own that he frightened her.
The afternoon's rest did her good; and when he returned she was ready for him.
He looked at her, as she sat in the garden before the tea-table in her muslin dress and big straw hat, with a shade of approval in his eyes.
He threw himself down into a chair beside her without speaking.
"Have you been far?" she asked.
"To the top of the hill," he answered. "I had a splendid view of the sea."