"My dear, your suspicions go a trifle farther than mine. You may be right, though it's not nice to think so. But where does all this lead?"
"Andrew may need supporters who don't altogether believe in the immaculate Leonard some day. I think, if needful, he could count on us."
"And on nobody else?"
"Not until the others understood; and it would be hard to make them see."
"Uncommonly hard," Wannop admitted. "Well, Hilda, you and I will be allies. We can conspire together unsuspected, because we are the two who are not supposed to count—you because you're too young and charming; I because I haven't the fine moral fastidiousness and air of distinction that marks the Allinsons. But I'll let you into a secret—Gertrude's wavering in her ideas about Andrew: I'm perverting her."
"There's something I'd better tell you. I met Mrs. Olcott half an hour ago and I stopped and spoke. I like her—there isn't the least reason why I shouldn't—and I'm sorry for her. I know she feels being left alone, and we're going to be friends. Now if the others should try to make things unpleasant?"
"I imagine Robert means mischief."
"I was afraid of it," said Hilda. "Of course, he's as silly and unable to see things properly as an owl in daylight, but solemn stupid people often pass for being wise, and he might do harm. If he tries, can you stop him? I know Andrew would like it."
Wannop made a sign of rather dubious assent.