"He deserved to get free, then?"
"He deserved to be punished, but not as he would have been. There wasn't really a vicious spot in the man. And the wife and child—what was a little justice to the possible happiness of those three? Discretion is a part of justice, and I used it, as it is used every day in business and judicial life, only we don't see it. When it gets public, why, some one gets blamed. In this case I was the target; but I don't mind in the least—not in the least. . . . Do you think me very startling or lawless?"
"Never lawless; but one could not be quite sure what you would do in any particular case." She looked up at him admiringly.
They had not noticed the approach of Archdeacon Varcoe till he was very near them. His face was troubled. He had seen how earnest was their conversation, and for some reason it made him uneasy. The girl saw him first, and ran to meet him. He saw her bright delighted look, and he sighed involuntarily. "Something has worried you," she said caressingly. Then she told him of the accident, and they all turned and went back towards the Court, Gaston walking his horse. Near the church they met Sir William and Lady Belward. There were salutations, and presently Gaston slowly followed his grandfather and grandmother into the courtyard.
Sir William, looking back, said to his wife: "Do you think that Gaston should be told?"
"No, no, there is no danger. Gaston, my dear, shall marry Delia
Gasgoyne."
"Shall marry? wherefore 'shall'? Really, I do not see."
"She likes him, she is quite what we would have her, and he is interested in her. My dear, I have seen—I have watched for a year."
He put his hand on hers.
"My wife, you are a goodly prophet."