"I believe he did. You know Mr. Jabez?"
"Yes." Charvington heaved heavy sigh. "But I have not seen him for years. We correspond occasionally--that is all," he paused, then dropping the pencil with which he was drawing, wheeled his chair and looked at his guest briskly. "But we have no time to talk of these old stories. Let us come to the point. Have you heard about Lesbia's stay here?"
"Yes," said George very distinctly, "Lady Charvington told both my mother and myself about the matter."
Lord Charvington's face grew a dull brick red. "When did you see my wife?"
"Yesterday: she called on my mother at Medmenham."
"What did she say?" asked the elder man, abruptly and anxiously.
George gave details in a blunt cool way, exaggerating nothing and suppressing nothing. The effect on Lord Charvington was very marked. He jumped up from his chair and paced the room, holding his head in both his hands.
"Good heavens: oh! good heavens," he muttered, "these women, these women. How dare Helen speak so? What does she guess? What does she know?"
"About what?" asked George with keen curiosity, and his question recalled Lord Charvington to the fact, which he seemed to have forgotten in his agitation, that he was not alone.
"Never mind," he said sharply, and returned to his seat more composed. "Do you mean to say that Lady Charvington stated that she had found the cross in this library?"