“I won’t murmur,” he said, laughing.
“But where’s aunt?” cried Eve. “She came down before me.”
“Aunt” had gone straight into the dining-room to see that all things were in a proper state of preparation, and had stopped short in the doorway on seeing Eve’s reception of their guest.
She was about to step forward, when, unseen by him, she caught a glimpse of her son’s countenance, as he watched the vicar. His teeth were set, his lips drawn slightly back, and a fierce look of anger puckered his forehead, as with fists clenched he made an involuntary movement after the couple who had entered the drawing-room.
Mrs Glaire drew back softly, and laying her hand on her beating heart, she walked to the other end of the dining-room, seating herself in one of the windows, half concealed by the curtain.
There was a smile upon her face, for, quick as lightning, a thought had flashed across her mind.
Here was the means at hand to bring her son to his senses. She had meant to take the vicar into her confidence, and ask his aid, stranger though he was, for she felt that his position warranted it; but now things had shaped themselves so that he was thoroughly playing into her hands.
She knew Eve, that she was ingenuous and truthful, and looked upon her marriage with her cousin as a matter of course. She was a girl who would consider a flirtation to be a crime towards the man who loved her; but the vicar would evidently be very attentive even as he had begun to be, and already Richard’s ire was aroused. Richard jealous, she meditated, and he would be roused from his apathetic behaviour to Eve, and all would come right.
“And the vicar?” she asked herself.
Oh, he meant nothing, would mean nothing. He knew the relations of Richard and his cousin, and the plan would—must succeed.