Sophy at once disclaimed any wish to visit the place; and the rest of the meal was spent in discussing the rival attractions of Ombersley, Thorpe Grange, and Scarborough, with some reminiscences from Lady Ombersley on a summer she had spent at Ramsgate before the Regent’s patronage of Brighton had quite cast this resort into the shade.
When they rose from the table, Hubert, who had been trying unavailingly for some time to get his cousin alone, blurted out, “Are you busy, Sophy? Would you care to stroll in the garden for a while?”
“Thank you! By and by, perhaps! Charles, may I have a word with you at your convenience?”
He met her direct gaze unsmilingly. “By all means! Now, if you wish.”
Lady Ombersley looked vaguely surprised; Selina exclaimed, “Secrets! Are you hatching a plot, I wonder? Shall we like it?
“Nothing so exciting,” replied Sophy lightly. “Merely, Charles executed a commission for me.”
She accompanied him across the hall to the library. She was never one to beat about the bush, and no sooner had he shut the door than she said, without preamble, “Now, if you please, tell me what this means. How did you know that I had sold my earrings, and why have you — as I suppose — bought them back for me?”
“I bought them back because I can think of only two reasons why you should have disposed of them.”
“Indeed! And what may they be, Cousin Charles?”
“I have never been permitted to see the bills for your ball, but I have some experience in these matters, and I can possibly guess at a rough total. If that is your explanation, you can want none from me. The arrangement was repugnant to me from the outset, as well you know.”