“I thought from what you said that you knew all about it,” he answered.
“No,” she replied, suspecting the truth, but seeing that it would be difficult to extract anything definite from him. “I only heard that you had an encounter of some kind with Batley. But why did you hint that he was not the worst?”
“He was merely acting in accordance with his instincts; one wouldn’t expect anything else.”
“The implication is that he was tacitly abetted by people of a different kind who ought to have known better.”
He was not to be drawn on this point, and she respected him for it.
“Was it only an animus against Batley that prompted you?” she asked.
“No,” he admitted candidly; “I wanted to get young Crestwick out of his clutches. I’m not sure he’s worth troubling about, but I’m sorry for his sister. As I’ve said before, there’s something fine in the way she sticks to him.”
The chivalrous feeling did him credit, Millicent admitted, but she was dissatisfied with it and was curious to learn if it were the only one he cherished toward the girl.
“That’s undoubtedly in her favor,” she commented indifferently.
He did not respond and they talked about other matters; but Lisle was now sensible of a slight constraint in Millicent’s manner and on the whole she was glad when he took his leave. Quick-witted, as she was, she guessed that he disapproved of the part Clarence had played in the affair at Marple’s, and this, chiming with her own suspicions, troubled her. She had a tenderness for Clarence, and she wondered how far her influence might restrain and protect him if, as his mother had suggested, she eventually married him. Another point caused her some uneasiness—Bella Crestwick had boldly entered the field against her and was making use of the Canadian to rouse Clarence by showing him that he had a rival. The thought of it stirred her to indignation; she would not have Lisle treated in that fashion. After sitting still for half an hour, she rose with a gesture of impatience and went into the house.