Chapter Nineteen.
Desire to be perfectly fair in her judgment of Arnott did not prevent Mrs Carruthers from imparting her views to her husband, when discussing with him that evening the mysterious happenings next door. She first acquainted him with the bare details, and asked for his opinion; since he had no opinion to offer she proceeded to unfold hers. Carruthers was astounded; he was also, to his wife’s amazement, annoyed with her.
“Perhaps you won’t be so ready to recommend people in future,” he remarked. “This is what comes of interfering in other people’s concerns.”
“Don’t be so unreasonable,” she expostulated. “The girl appeared to be all right. She was with the Smiths for years.”
“Smith’s dead, you see,” he answered.
Mrs Carruthers stared.
“You think she was that sort of girl?” she asked.
“Well, I don’t know,” he returned, and looked a trifle sheepish. “But Arnott got her talked about pretty badly at Muizenberg. A fellow who was there at the same time told me it was scandalous the way he went on.”