"Yes," said Olivia, her face brightening, and rising to go away, "but I'll ask Miss Pewsey to tell Aunt Sophia herself."
As they walked towards the ruined entrance, Mrs. Petley's bulky form appeared in the archway. She threw up her hands. "Sakes alive, Master Rupert, come off Abbot Raoul's burning-place."
Ainsleigh, who was standing on the square of blackened ground, obeyed at once, and drew Olivia away also. "I forgot," he murmured.
"Forgot what?" asked Olivia.
"Why miss," said the old housekeeper, "don't you know it's said that if an Ainsleigh stands there, some trouble will befall him before the year's end, You're not an Ainsleigh miss, but Master Rupert--well there--oh sir, how can you be so foolish. The tea's ready sir," and Mrs. Petley, with this prosaic ending trotted away.
"She doesn't know that you are an Ainsleigh," said Rupert kissing his wife, "pah. Don't think of that foolish superstition. Come to--"
"No, Rupert," said Olivia, planting herself firmly against the wall, "you know I said a quarter of an hour. It's half an hour we have been talking. I must get back."
The young husband urged, implored, scolded, cajoled, but all to no effect. Olivia made up her mind to go, and go she did, Rupert escorting her to the gates. "You are very unkind," he said.
"I am very sensible," she replied, "I don't want to disturb my new relations with Miss Pewsey. She has such power over my aunt that it is necessary I should keep on good terms with her. Now, Rupert, you must not come any further."
"Just along the road."