AT BAY
Vane faithfully delivered both messages, and Gwen was as pleased with the churchyard appointment as Mrs. Perage was annoyed by Hench's folly. That he should walk for miles on a weak ankle proved what a fool he was, and she said as much to her nephew next morning at breakfast.
"You men are all babies, Jim, silly, obstinate and weak."
"Not me," retorted the barrister. "I haven't been fooling with my ankle."
"You know quite well what I mean," fumed Mrs. Perage, who was in her work-a-day attire, and who looked particularly fierce. "It's not only his ankle, it's his masquerading." She rubbed her nose irritably. "I tell you there will be the deuce to pay. Gwen is Welsh."
"Well, what does her nationality matter?"
"It matters everything. The Welsh are a particularly fiery nation, and have the pride of Old Nick. As a poor man Gwen loves her cousin--he is the fairy prince who has come into her life. But when she learns the truth----"
"She'll forgive him if she loves him."
Mrs. Perage shook her head and scowled. "You don't know woman, Jim. Her very love may make her resent his not having treated her quite honestly."
"Aren't you taking the matter too seriously, Aunt Emma?" expostulated Vane with a shrug. "After all, Miss Evans must see that Owain could only give himself a fair chance by masquerading as he has done. If he had turned up in propria persona_, she would have disliked him on the spot."