Rolph stood watching the keeper for a few minutes till he disappeared.
“Well out of that trouble then,” he muttered. “Not pleasant for a fellow; it makes one feel so small. Poor little Judy! she’ll be horribly wild when she comes to know. What a lot of misery our marriage laws do cause in this precious world.”
“Now then for home,” he said, after walking swiftly for a few minutes, and, “putting on a spurt” as he termed it, he reached the house and went straight to the library.
He had entered and closed the door to sit down and have a good think about how he could “square Madge,” when he became aware that the lady in his thoughts was seated in one of the great arm-chairs with a book in her hand, which she pretended to read. She cowered as her cousin started, and stood gazing down at her with a frowning brow, and a look of utter disgust and contempt about his lips which made her bosom rise and fall rapidly.
“Do you want this room, Rob?” she said, breaking an awkward silence.
“Well, yes, after what took place this morning, you do make the place seem unpleasant,” he said coolly.
“Oh, this is too much,” cried Madge, her face, the moment before deadly pale, now flushing scarlet, as she threw down the book she had held, and stood before him, biting her lips with rage.
“Yes, too much.”
“And have we been to the cottage to see the fair idol? Pray explain,” said Marjorie, who was beside herself with rage and jealousy. “I thought gentlemen who were engaged always made an end of their vulgar amours.”
“Quite right,” said Rolph, meaningly. “I did begin, as you know.”