"I don't think it matters a bit," said Rupert, "hasn't your aunt seen anyone lately?"
"No,--yes, by the way. She has seen her lawyer several times."
"I expect she is altering her will."
Olivia laughed. "She threatens to do so in favour of Miss Pewsey, unless by the end of the month I give you up, and engage myself either to Mr. Walker or to Mr. Burgh."
Rupert grew very angry. "What a detestable woman," he exclaimed. "I beg your pardon, dear, I forgot she's your aunt. But what right has she to order you about like this? You are of age."
"And I am married, though she doesn't know it. But I'll tell you the real reason, I am vexed I can't see my aunt. Can't we sit down?"
"Over there," said Ainsleigh, pointing to a secluded seat.
It was placed at the far end of the cloisters under a large oak. There were four oaks here, or to be more correct, three oaks and the stump of one. "That was destroyed by lightning when I was born," said Rupert, seeing Olivia's eyes fixed on this. "Mrs. Petley saw in it an omen that I would be unlucky. But am I?" and he fell to kissing his wife's hands again.
"Really, Rupert, you must be more sensible," she said, in pretended vexation. "What a pretty tree that copper-beech is."
"Yes! But do you see the blackened square?"