"As I'm unromantically stout, getting elderly, and devoid of personal charm, I might perhaps venture to interfere in this matter. After all, there's a sense in which Andrew is undoubtedly to blame. Why do you let him go to The Firs so often?"
"If I should give him a hint that people are talking, it would only make him angry. You know he really is slow at understanding now and then."
They strolled back to the party, which soon afterward broke up, for although Hilda begged them to wait for dinner nobody seemed anxious to meet Andrew. When they had gone, Hilda turned to Leonard with a smile.
"Had an interesting talk?" she asked. "You all looked so serious that I was afraid to join you."
Leonard glanced at her sharply.
"As you grow older you'll find that there are matters which can't be treated humorously."
"It's possible," Hilda agreed. "Still, that remark is too much in Robert's style. Improving conversation is apt to get tiresome."
She moved away and Leonard watched her with thoughtful eyes. He believed he enjoyed her sisters' confidence, but he was doubtful of Hilda.
Three weeks later Andrew sailed, and soon after he had done so Wannop called one afternoon at The Firs, where he was received by Mrs. Olcott in the garden. He thought she looked harassed, but he had expected this.
"I believe you have met my wife," he began, taking the canvas chair she indicated.