Mr. Taverner looked rather amused. “My dear Perry, am I the only man in town answering to that description? Is that all that you base your suspicions on? Have you not considered that your opponent may very likely have spoken of the meeting as well as you?”
“Farnaby?” Peregrine was disconcerted. “No. it had not occurred—that is to say, I do not think it probable—”
“Why, what is this? Is it more probable, then, that I laid the information?”
“Of course if you assure me you did not I am bound to accept your word,” said Peregrine stiffly.
“I am glad of that,” said his cousin. “I will confess, at the risk of offending you afresh, that however little I may have had to do with it I am more than pleased to find that information was laid.”
“You are very good,” said Peregrine, eyeing him a trifle askance.
Mr. Taverner laughed. “Well, were you so anxious to be shot at? Come, you are not to be picking a quarrel with me, you know! Judith, do you go to the Exhibition? Is Mrs. Scattergood ready?”
Judith got up. “She went into the breakfast-parlour to write a note before you came. Shall we fetch her?”
“By all means. We are behind time, I believe. I was detained, and should beg pardon.” He nodded pleasantly to Peregrine and held open the door for Judith to pass out.
In the hall she waited for him to close the door, and then said in a low voice: “You did not deny it.”